


your heirs know not your tombs

by breezered



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, Less than canon-typical violence, Treasure Hunters AU, could be considered a really long road trip au with guns and history, geographical accuracy is attempted, historical accuracy is attempted, this is what happens when a history nerd puts off writing term papers, uncharted inspiration, wayhaught-centric, would probably say waverly-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-01-16 09:35:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 58,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12340086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breezered/pseuds/breezered
Summary: "It looks so like some lonesome ship,That sails this ghostly lonely sea, -This dried-up desert sea," said he,"These tawny sands of Arazit"...Avaunt ! the tale is not of it.There are tales of ships lost in the American desert and the treasures of their holds, passed down through generations of wandering souls. Wynonna Earp has something to prove, and it isn't just her sister's thesis.





	1. all spoke the bold adventurer

**Author's Note:**

> Work's title, summary, and all chapter titles taken from Joaquin Miller's poem 'The Ship in the Desert'. Historical accuracy is attempted, as is geographical accuracy, but I make zero promises. There's a flavour of Uncharted here, since it was my initial inspiration. This is my magnum opus, it's been outlined and that's a whole new ball game with me, folks.

She tightens the strap of her saddlebags, securing them to the motorcycle’s shining body. The moonlight dances off the chrome, and the girl sweeps her long hair over her shoulder, her leather jacket creaking with the movement. She swings her leg over the bike, reaching behind her to grab her helmet. 

A shrill voice stops her, and the girl on the bike sighs, her plans for a quiet escape ruined. 

“Wynonna!” Her sister runs out of the small house, her feet bare on the rain-wet ground. “Wynonna, what are you doing?” She skids to a stop in front of the bike, her small hands landing on the handlebars and wobbling the bike. 

Wynonna steadies the bike and puts her hands over Waverly’s. “Waves, let go of the bike.” 

“No!” Her hands grip the bars harder. “You’re leaving again. I won’t let you!” 

“Waverly,” Wynonna warns, “get out of my way.” Waverly’s face sets, resolute in her determination. They stare each other down, waiting for the other to give. The wind whistles through the tall prairie grass. Wynonna sighs and nods, reluctantly getting off the bike. Waverly lets go of the bike once she’s sure Wynonna won’t try and make a break for it. 

Wynonna leads her over to the porch and they sit on the steps. Waverly wraps her arms around herself and tucks her chin to her chest. Wynonna fiddles with the fringe on her sleeve. 

“Why are you leaving?” Waverly asks, breaking the silence. 

“I can’t be here anymore,” Wynonna answers. “This town is…it’s suffocating. I need to get out, make my own name. My own way.” She looks up at the star-littered sky and shrugs. “I have to escape this town.”

Waverly sniffs. “What about me?” 

“Hey,” Wynonna says, draping her arm over Waverly’s slim shoulders, pulling her to her side, “you don’t need me, baby girl.” 

“You’re my sister,” Waverly sniffles. “I’m always going to need you.” 

Wynonna kisses the top of her head, rubbing her arm. “I promise I’ll keep in touch.” She fishes in her pocket and pulls out a gold coin, flipping it around in her fingers before pressing it into Waverly’s hand. “Take this.” 

“Wynonna,” Waverly protests, “you’re the heir, it belongs to you.”

“That’s bullshit,” Wynonna says. “You’re the best of us, Waverly Earp.”

Waverly stares at the coin in her hand. “You’ll come back for it?”

Wynonna hears her silent question, and rests her head on Waverly’s. “You can count on it.” They sit like that a while, quietly holding each other and Waverly tries to commit it to memory, the smell of Wynonna’s leather jacket, the warmth of her sister’s comfort.

Wynonna moves first, standing and wiping her hands on her pants, offering Waverly a hand to help her stand.

“I love you, baby girl,” Wynonna says, hugging her sister briefly before getting on her motorcycle, pulling her helmet on and starting the engine. Waverly stands on the porch, watching as her sister rides off into the night, the sound of her engine deafening against the silence of the night air. She opens her palm and looks at the coin again.

“She’ll come back for it,” Waverly says quietly, closing her small hand over the coin and clutching it tightly to her chest. She looks at the half moon and nods. With one last look to the road, she walks back inside the house, the door creaking behind her as she closes it. She sneaks quietly up the stairs, even though she’s sure Gus and Curtis have already woken up with the noise of Wynonna’s bike.

The coin is placed in a shoebox under her bed, and Waverly climbs under her covers. The wool of the afghan scratches her chin, and she rolls onto her side to look out the window at the clear sky, stars bright against the black.

“She’ll come back.”

* * *

 

Waverly curses under breath as she rushes to her office, a stack of papers and books balancing precariously in her arms. She weaves through the crowded hallways with a practiced and sure foot, climbing stairs with an ease born of having to make the same mad dash every Wednesday. And, like every Wednesday, she curses her luck for having an office on the twelfth floor of the most remote building on campus as she tries to open her door with her full hands. 

“Jumpin’ juniper,” she mutters as she manages to get the key in the lock, turning the handle and pushing through the door. Her office is tiny, but neat, every book and paper having a place. She sets her pile on her desk, in the “to organize” basket. Collapsing in her chair, she heaves a sigh, waking up her computer and groaning at the emails that come flooding in. 

“Mornin’, Waves,” Jeremy says, popping his head in her doorway and giving her a smile. 

“Hey, Jeremy,” she answers. The Bio-Chem grad student is one of her best friends on campus, another grad student who got given an office in this building. They’re the overflow floor, when departments don’t have enough room to give their students space. It means you get your own office, but it also means Waverly spends too much time running from the History department across campus to her office. 

“I’m getting a coffee,” he says, waving his Optimus Prime mug around, “want one?” 

“Yes, please,” she says, giving him a grateful smile, “you’re a life-saver, Jeremy.” He grins, taking her ‘if it ain’t baroque, don’t fix it’ mug. She filters through her emails while she waits, deleting spam and flagging the emails from archives and her supervisor. Jeremy returns with her coffee quickly, leaving her with a commiserate smile. 

Her morning passes in a blur of research and students complaining about their grades. Being a TA is part of her job that she really loves, until it gets to be mid-term season and everyone’s grandmother seems to pass away at once. 

She’s about to leave and find Jeremy to see if he wants to grab lunch, when someone knocks on her door. 

“Office hours aren’t until three today,” she calls out, grabbing her purse and a book in case Jeremy is busy. “If you’ve got a problem with a grade, send an email first please.” The person knocks again, more insistent this time, and Waverly sighs. She goes and opens the door, beginning to tell the person off again, but then the door is open and her jaw drops open. 

“Hey there, baby girl,” Wynonna grins, leaning in the door frame. She’s got the same stupid fringed jacket that Waverly remembers, and the same mane of wavy hair. Her grin is just as shit-eating, her eyes still mischievous, and her pants just as impractically tight. 

Waverly feels a little like she’s been punched in the sternum. 

“Wy-wynonna?” 

Wynonna nods and Waverly jumps forward with no hesitation, her arms wrapping around her sister tightly, like she might disappear if she isn’t held down. 

“Oof, okay, watch the squeezing,” Wynonna wheezes, patting Waverly on the back. Waverly jumps back, sheepish. 

“Sorry,” she says, “it’s just…it’s been _years_ , Wynonna!” Waverly smacks her sister’s arm, and Wynonna yelps. “Where the hell have you been? Have you never heard of-of cellphones, or postcards?!” 

Wynonna winces. “Look, I’m sorry about that, okay?” She looks around the hallway and gestures to Waverly’s office. “Can we talk about this in there?” Waverly huffs, but steps aside, letting Wynonna in and closing the door behind them. She sits behind her desk, frowning when Wynonna kicks her dirty boots up on the desktop. 

“Nice place you got here,” Wynonna says, looking around the office with an impressed smile. “Look at you, all grown up and in an office.” 

“Yeah,” Waverly says, crossing her arms over her chest, “ten years can change a lot.” Wynonna has the sense to look chastised, and Waverly sighs. “Alright, I’m sorry. You deserve a chance to explain yourself before I kick your ass.” 

Wynonna laughs, quickly stifling it when she sees Waverly isn’t smiling. “Okay, so, where do I start?” 

“Well, last I heard from you was almost five years ago,” Waverly says, “you were working a job in Bangkok.” 

Wynonna grins, nodding her head. “Bangkok was sweet,” she says. “Okay, so after Bangkok, I got a job with Doc in Nepal. It was half relief work, half a hunt for this lost statue from the fifth century. Never actually found it, because an avalanche came in and almost wiped out the entire search area. Lost funding, had to head back to Nevada. Spent a few months working odd jobs, mostly bounty hunting. Got a big contract to bring in this big time drug dealer’s lieutenant, went down to Nicaragua while tracking him. A few things went sideways, spent about a year in custody of said drug lord.” 

“What?!” Waverly exclaims, her eyes wide with shock. 

“Yeah, it was way less scary than it sounds,” Wynonna assures her, picking at her pinky nail. “Honestly, Hector wasn’t that bad a guy. After the year was up, I think he just got tired of having to keep bringing us around. So we were released, then we spent a handful of months drunk on different Caribbean islands. Couldn’t tell you which ones, the whole thing is a blur. Got offered another job, which was good because Doc and I had pretty much drank our reserves dry. Indonesia was nice, but then the guy who was funding us got done in by this bitch Clootie, and she…well, long story short, she got wind of our hunt and now I’m kind of in the middle of a race.” 

Waverly tries to catch up with Wynonna’s whirlwind tale. “Wait, so what were you looking for?” 

“You’re not gonna believe it,” Wynonna says, her grin wolfish, and she reaches into her jacket. “Check out what I found in California.” Clutched in her hands is a leather bound journal. 

“Is that-“

Wynonna nods, tossing the journal to Waverly. The younger Earp carefully opens it, taking care to protect and support the spine, and her mouth slowly drops open. 

“Wynonna, this is incredible,” she says slowly, thumbing through the dry pages. 

“A full account of the discovery of the _Iqueue_ ,” Wynonna says, “along with a rough description of their plan to move the treasure.” 

“Son of a gun,” Waverly whispers. She looks up at Wynonna, a slow smile spreading across her face. “Wynonna, this is just-just-just incredible! Like, totally amazeballs!” She’s vaguely aware that she’s yelling. “This is our legacy! Daddy wasn’t lying, the _Iqueue_ really did exist!” 

“She sure did,” Wynonna agrees, “wanna come help me find her?” 

Waverly’s smile goes ear to ear. 

-

Back at Waverly’s apartment, Wynonna is lounging on the couch and nodding absentmindedly while Waverly goes on, pointing at her crime map of history on her bedroom wall. There are photographs, sketches, witness accounts, any shred of evidence that ever existed about the _Iqueue_ and her treasure. 

“Wynonna, are you even listening?” Waverly says, hands on her hips as she frowns at her sister. 

Wynonna jumps, shaking out of her fog. “Uh, yeah, something about-about Spanish music-ers?”

“That’s not even a word,” Waverly scolds. 

“It could be,” Wynonna grumbles. 

Waverly sighs, pointing at a sketch of two crossed swords. “Spanish mutineers, Wynonna,” she says, “they’re the ones who were piloting the _Iqueue_ , and they ran her aground. They had a whole bunch of treasure and most _notably_ were the doubloons.” Waverly tosses her gold doubloon at Wynonna who fumbles and manages to catch it. “They were unique from other doubloons at the time because of the _sigil_ on one side. There’s the usual Templar cross, but on the reverse is this symbol. The mutineers minted their coins with two crossed rapiers.” 

Wynonna looks at the coin and nods. “Shit, I never realized that,” she says. “Damn, you’ve done your research.”

“Well, it _is_ my dissertation,” Waverly says with an eye-roll. “It’s kind of my job to research it.”

“Right, makes sense,” Wynonna says, tossing the coin back to Waverly. Waverly hums, putting the coin carefully in the silk lined box she got for it a few years back. “So, what do you think of all this?”

Waverly shrugs, coming to sit beside Wynonna. “I don’t know, I mean, I always dreamed that the _Iqueue_ was real, but the evidence was so weak. But now…I don’t know what to think.”

Wynonna bumps their shoulders together. “Come on, baby girl, this is _it_. This is our time to see if everything we grew up hearing was real or not.” Waverly grins. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to miss it.”

Waverly sighs, looking at her life’s work on the wall. It’s kind of a dream come true. Her sister comes home, and she comes home ready to fulfill their legacy and work together, something Waverly had dreamed of since Wynonna left ten years ago. All her years of research, or dead ends and false leads, of trying to scrape together any shreds of evidence she could find, it’s all coming to a head.

One look at Wynonna’s eager smile is all it takes to have Waverly agreeing to take off in search of the _Iqueue_ ’s treasure.

-

“So, tell me again how you got all this gear?” Wynonna asks as they sit on the bus to California.

“I did some family history research for this guy a year or two ago,” Waverly says, fiddling with the lens on her camera. “He didn’t have the money then to pay me, and what I found was so big to him that he felt pretty indebted.” She aims the camera at Wynonna and clicks the shutter. Wynonna gives her the finger with a smile.

“But like…this is a lot of high class shit,” Wynonna says. “If he doesn’t have money, how did he get all this?”

“Oh, well, that was sort of the family history’s doing,” Waverly says.

Wynonna grins. “Nice.” She gives Waverly a high-five before turning to look back out the window, the California desert whipping by them. “Why do all cacti look like dicks?”

Waverly snorts, shaking her head. “You haven’t changed a bit, have you?”

Wynonna shrugs, her forehead resting against the window. “Guess not.”


	2. a mountaineer, storm-stained and brown

Waverly has never been so thankful for having stayed in shape all her life as she is as she walks along the Salton Sea with a heavy backpack. Wynonna, fit from her years spent adventuring and much more used to trekking in dry heat, presses ever forward. They’re supposed to be meeting with Wynonna’s partner at the spot where Wynonna found the journal, and when Wynonna had told Waverly it was a “quick hike”, Waverly thought that meant a few kilometres. 

Apparently it meant an entire day’s journey. 

Just when Waverly’s pretty sure her legs are going to give out and she’s going to lie down and become one with the desert, she spots a figure leaning up against a tall rock, a brimmed hat pulled down low over his eyes. 

“Please say that’s your guy,” Waverly whines, hefting her backpack up on her shoulders, trying to find a spot that isn’t sore. 

“That’s him,” Wynonna confirms, and she waves at the man. He straightens up and tips his hate. They get closer and Waverly giggles a little at the giant bushy moustache that covers his upper lip. 

“It’s good to see you in one piece, Wynonna,” Doc greets, and he and Wynonna meet in a brief hug. Waverly drops her backpack and wipes her brown with her forearm. Doc turns to her and tips his head politely. “You must be Waverly. It is truly a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”

Waverly stifles a laugh at his odd manner of speaking. “It’s really nice to meet you,” she says instead, “I always wondered who was capable of putting up with Wynonna for so long.” 

“Hey!” Wynonna protests. 

Doc chuckles. “Your sister is one of a kind,” he says, “as I imagine you are, too.” 

“Alright, I don’t know if I like this,” Wynonna interrupts, gesturing between Doc and Waverly, “you two are going to gang up on me. I can feel it.” 

Waverly shrugs. “Maybe.” Doc smiles at her and nods his head behind him. 

“Come along, ladies, I’ve got camp set up over there.” He picks up Waverly’s bag and shoulders it. 

“Oh, that’s really fine,” Waverly tries to protest, but Doc shakes his head. 

“It’s the least I can do,” he says, tipping his hat and leading them to the makeshift campsite. “I hear it’s you I have to thank for the meticulous research that I received.” 

Waverly blushes. “It’s really no big deal, just some stuff I pulled together.”

“Oh shut up, you’re awesome and your research is game-changing,” Wynonna says, bumping playfully into Waverly. “Couldn’t do this without you, Angel Pants.” 

Waverly smiles. “Copy that, Bacon Doughnut.” 

-

The campsite is basic, two small tents and a small campfire. A flat rock serves as a makeshift desk, a lantern providing light as Waverly pours over the journal. 

“So who was this James Lyle guy anyways?” Wynonna asks, munching on a bit of jerky. Tinny music is playing from Doc’s wind-up radio, something that sounds suspiciously like Adele. 

“James Lyle, essentially a pioneer of the west,” Waverly says. “From what I could find, he worked at a nearby mine and happened to be part of the group of men who stumbled upon the dying Spanish crew and decided to get theirs.” She opens her own notebook, containing an annotated version of her wall back home, and turns to a picture of a group of about twenty men. “These are the guys who claimed to have seen the wreckage of a ship in the desert about fifty years later. That guy,” she points to a man in a scruffy coat with an equally scruffy beard, “is our great-great-great-great-grandfather, Nicholas Porter Earp.”

Wynonna tilts her head. “Huh. He kinda looks like you.” 

“Uh, no he doesn’t,” Waverly says. 

“Um, yes he does.” 

Waverly rolls her eyes. “Whatever, _moving on_ ,” she flips the page and shows Wynonna a timeline of people reporting seeing a wrecked ship in the desert. “Basically, a bunch of different reports came in about these desert ships. Sometimes they were small dinghies, or massive galleons, but it was always around this area.” Waverly pulls the map out from under her notes and Wynonna nods. 

“Yeah, where we are now,” she says as she taps her fingers on the lake circled in red. 

“Exactly,” Waverly says, “and there wasn’t really any evidence for it until you found that journal. A lot of people would have salvaged any materials they could get for building their houses and whatnot, so any remains would have been taken.” She flips through her notebook and finally lands on a page with a picture of a small wooden house. “This is an almost perfectly preserved house from the settlement era. Now, look closely at the post holding up the porch roof.” 

Wynonna leans in and lets out a low whistle. “Looks like a mast.”

“Mhm, and you can see where the rigging would have attached,” Waverly says, tracing her finger over the picture. “And where would this guy have gotten a spare mast to build his house with in the midst of western exploration?” 

“Aha, desert ship!” Wynonna exclaims, snickering proudly and nodding her head enthusiastically. She holds out her hand for a high-five and Waverly slaps her palm to Wynonna’s. 

“Desert ship,” Waverly agrees. The two sisters exchange wide grins. Footsteps behind them signal Doc’s return from the weapons cache he had set up. 

When Waverly asked why they would need weapons, Wynonna laughed and patted her on the head. So when Doc hands her a shotgun, Waverly is surprised to find she quite likes the weight of it in her hands. 

Wynonna twirls a long barrelled pistol around her finger, slotting it into a holster, the belt full of ammunition. “Reunited and it feels so good,” she sings. 

Doc clips on his belt holster and draws his twin pistols so quickly that Waverly thinks she might have missed it had she blinked. She looks at the shotgun in her hands and puts it in her smaller backpack, the butt of the gun sticking out of the bag. 

“If you tell Gus that I gave you a gun, she’ll shoot my ass off,” Wynonna says, and Waverly laughs knowing that it’s probably true. “Alright losers, you ready for this?”

“I still don’t get why we’re not waiting for the sun to come up,” Waverly says, carefully putting her notebook in her bag and filling a canteen with water. 

“Gotta get a jump on the day,” Wynonna says, “and besides, it’s safer. Fewer people around.” 

“Yeah, like there are hundreds of tourists in the relatively remote Californian desert in November,” Waverly scoffs. Wynonna gives her a look and she holds up her hands in surrender. 

“Who’s the experienced one here?” Wynonna asks.

“You are,” Waverly huffs, the conversation familiar from the past hour. She zips up her light windbreaker and adjusts her scarf. “Let’s get going then, expert.” Wynonna winks at her and flicks on her shoulder light. Doc and Waverly follow her, and Waverly is happy for his quiet presence, even if his hat is weird. 

They walk until the sun starts to break the horizon, and Wynonna picks up her pace. Waverly follows as best she can as Wynonna climbs over rocks like a mountain goat. She doesn’t resist when Doc offers her a steadying hand, her boots slipping on the dewey rock beneath them. 

“Who knew treasure hunting would involve so much walking,” Waverly says, and Doc laughs. 

“More than seventy percent of the job is just walking,” he says, and Waverly groans. 

“Yoga is _not_ a good training regimen for distance walking,” she sighs, hoisting herself up onto a large flat rock. Wynonna is kneeling at the far edge, looking through her binoculars. She waves her hand, gesturing them to get down. They crouch beside her and she hands Doc the binoculars.

“Is that who I think it is?” Wynonna asks, her voice low. Waverly frowns, really not happy to be out of the loop again. 

Doc grimaces and lowers the binoculars. “I am afraid so.” 

“Fuck,” Wynonna hisses. She sits on the edge of the rock, her legs dangling in the air below them. Waverly mimics her position, taking the binoculars from Doc. She peers through the lenses, adjusting the focus until she can make out the shapes of about a dozen men combing the desert. 

“Who are they?” Waverly asks, sweeping the area over. 

“Revenants,” Wynonna spits. “Mercs for hire, a bunch of real bad dudes.” 

“Constance must have gone ahead and hired them,” Doc says. “I suppose in this case, she believes quantity will outweigh quality.” 

“Wait a minute,” Waverly says, lowering the binoculars, “what do you mean ‘mercs for hire’?” 

Wynonna shrugs. “Uh, these guys will kill anyone who gets in their way? And usually I tend to get in their way.” Waverly glares at her sister. 

“And you didn’t think telling me would be, I dunno, the polite thing to do?” She whisper-yells. 

“Would you have come if I told you that there was a slight chance of us being hunted down by a band of mercenaries and their psycho boss?” Wynonna counters. Waverly opens her mouth to reply, but can’t find the right words to express her annoyance, so she just clamps her jaw shut and crosses her arms across her chest. Wynonna huffs, snatching the binoculars back and surveying the area. 

“If I may,” Doc says, “might I suggest that we find an alternate path? I do not like our chances.” 

“Oh please, we’ve dealt with far worse,” Wynonna dismisses him with a wave of her hand, “but yeah, I think we’d better stick to subtlety for as long as possible.” She scours the landscape and then exclaims, “aha!” She hands the binoculars to Doc. “West, about seven o’clock. See that rope?” 

Doc looks in the direction and smiles. “Taking the high road,” he says, “a fine plan.” 

“Still forever disappointed that the high road has nothing to do with marijuana,” Wynonna sighs. “Come on, baby girl, you can be mad at me all you want, but we’ve got to get moving.” Waverly purses her lips, but stands up and follows Wynonna back the way they came, bearing West when they get off the rock. 

“So what’s the plan?” Waverly asks Doc once Wynonna is far enough ahead of them. 

“High road,” Doc says, “climb those rocks over there, cross the mesa, and hopefully get right by the Revenants without making so much as a peep.” 

“Sounds optimistic,” Waverly says. 

“As far as plans your sister’s made, this might be the most reasonable I have ever witnessed,” Doc says. “You don’t have to agree with her methods, Waverly, but she is the reason I am still alive. I trust her with my life.” He picks up the pace, and Waverly has to keep up, her shorter legs working overtime. 

Skirting around behind an outcropping of dry desert rock, Wynonna leads them to the base of a tall rock face. A climbing rope hangs off of it, and Doc gives it a solid tug to check it’s bearings. 

“Ladies first,” he says, and Wynonna flips him off as she grips the rope and starts to ascend, her feet firmly planted on the rock in front of her. Waverly waits for her to reach the top before taking hold of the rope. She takes a deep breath and starts to climb. She’s slower than Wynonna, but she’s no stranger to body weight work outs, and it’s surprisingly easy to get herself up to grab Wynonna’s hand and haul herself onto the rock. Doc is quick to follow, and as they climb up the small rock steps to the next level, Wynonna curses and drops low. Waverly copies her sister, and peers over the rock. 

There’s a tent pitched behind a tall boulder. It wouldn’t have been visible from where Wynonna was scoping out the path. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Wynonna hisses. “Okay, Waves, stay here. I’m going to go check it out.” 

“Excuse you, I’m not going to let you go up there alone,” Waverly argues. 

“Fine, I’ll take Doc,” Wynonna huffs. 

“Or you could take me,” Waverly huffs right back. Wynonna grits her teeth and her jaw clenches. 

“Whatever, fine, just be ready.” Quietly, they climb up and step quietly around the site. There’s a small makeshift fire pit, and Doc pokes it with a stick, holding his hand over the ashes. 

“Been out only a few hours at most,” he says. 

Waverly finds a pack of climbing gear and some clothes and provisions. “I think it’s just a tourist,” she says, “they’ve got a state park map.” 

“Should’ve stuck to state parks,” Wynonna grumbles. She draws her gun and points it at the tent. “Alright, come out with your hands up!” Her voice is somewhere near commanding and a little exasperated. Waverly shakes her head at her sister’s dramatics. 

The tent zipper opens and a head of messy red hair and large brown eyes pops out, looking sleepy and confused. 

“What the hell?” The woman says, rubbing at her eyes. Wynonna steps forward and puts the gun right in the woman’s face.

“Hands up, where I can see ‘em,” Wynonna orders. The woman furrows her brow, and Waverly thinks it’s kind of cute how her mouth turns down in confusion. 

_What the hell, Waverly_ , she thinks. 

“Right, heard you the first time,” the red-haired woman says, “but could you maybe let me get dressed first?” 

Wynonna shrugs. “Yeah, that’s fine.” She holsters her gun and Waverly feels like she’s getting whiplash from her sister’s constantly shifting mood. There’s a shuffle inside the tent, and then the zipper is being fully opened and long legs and arms and a lithe body are following the red hair out of the tent. 

The first thing Waverly observes about the woman is that she’s _tall_. Like, probably six feet tall. The next is that her shirt is still half-ridden up her pale stomach, and Waverly can see soft looking skin over a flat and fit stomach. 

And then she realizes she’s ogling and she snaps her eyes up to the woman’s face. 

“I was sleeping,” the redhead says, glowering at Wynonna and fixing her shirt, much to Waverly’s disappointment. 

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Wynonna interrogates, trying to look threatening by twirling her gun around on her index finger. 

“Seems a little unfair that _I’m_ the one who is getting rudely awoken and has to answer a bunch of questions,” the woman says. “Don’t I get to know who you are?” She looks at the motley crew and Waverly really hopes the heat she feels in her cheeks isn’t visible. 

“Who we are is none of your concern,” Wynonna says, still erring on the uncomfortable side of commanding. 

“Except it kind of _is_ , since I’m being threatened at gunpoint and all.” 

“I’m Waverly Earp,” Waverly says, unable to bear another second of Wynonna trying to seem tough and cool, “the idiot with the big ass gun is my sister, Wynonna, and this is Doc. We’re just passing through.” 

The woman smiles at her and Waverly momentarily forgets to breathe because _oh wow those dimples_. “Nice to meet you, Waverly Earp,” she says, “I’m Nicole. Nicole Haught.” 

Wynonna snickers. “Hot?” 

Nicole Haught rolls her eyes. “It’s a name, it’s not like the temperature, and yes, I’m aware I could have had a very bright future in the porn industry.” She sends a wicked grin Waverly’s way. 

“Damn it,” Wynonna whispers. 

“So, what’re you folks up to all the way out here?” Nicole asks. 

“Just trying to get where we’re going,” Waverly says, trying to placate the new woman with a friendly smile. “What about you?”

Nicole looks around them at the climbing gear and gestures at it. “Climbing.” Waverly feels her face flush in embarrassment. 

“Right, of course,” she mumbles. 

“And you’re here alone?” Wynonna asks, peering over Nicole’s shoulder at the open tent. 

“Yup,” Nicole says, “and I was really enjoying it until you came along with your firepower.” 

“So you’re saying you’re just an innocent tourist, doing some climbing, and that’s it?” Wynonna clarifies. 

“Oh, let the poor woman be,” Doc sighs. “Ma’am, we are terribly sorry for inconveniencing you. We’ll be on our way now.” He tips his hat to Nicole and grabs Wynonna by the elbow, leading her away. Waverly smiles at Nicole and starts to follow them.

“Wait a minute,” Nicole calls out, “you can’t go that way.” 

Wynonna turns around and nods. “Uh, yes we can, and we will.” 

Nicole shakes her head. “Uh, no you can’t. There was a rockslide about a week ago, it’s impassable.” 

“A week ago?” Wynonna looks at Nicole, incredulous. “Damn, how long have you been out here?”

“Two days,” Nicole says. “It was posted on the notice board.” 

Wynonna looks at Waverly. “There’s a notice board?” She whispers, and Waverly rolls her eyes. Wynonna blinks out of it and shrugs. “Well, I’ve always liked to do things people tell me I can’t.” She gives a lazy salute and turns on her heel to keep pushing forwards. 

“Wynonna, maybe we should listen to her,” Waverly suggests, dragging her feet. 

“You totally should listen to me!” Nicole says, giving them all a thumbs up and a smile. Waverly’s knees feel a little weak. 

“Waves, we have to get moving, and this is the fastest way,” Wynonna hisses. Doc sighs and lights a cigarette, leaning up against the rock wall behind them. 

“Actually,” Nicole interjects, looking up from where she’s pulled a granola bar out of her pack, “there are like, three different paths. I could show you, if you wanted.” 

Wynonna looks at Doc, who just shrugs and keeps smoking. Waverly’s stomach flips at the idea of spending more time with this pretty girl. Wynonna starts pacing, twirling her gun and mumbling to herself. 

Waverly jumps when someone bumps her shoulder. Nicole is grinning down at her and holding out a granola bar. “Snack?” She asks. Waverly accepts it with a nervous smile, the wrapper crinkling loudly as she opens it. Nicole rocks back and forth on her feet, and they both watch Wynonna pace.

She paces until Waverly finishes her snack, and then Wynonna looks up to the sky and yells, “Fuck!” She turns to Nicole and points her finger at her. “Alright, Nicole Haught, you better not be some rookie dud, or I am going to go _all_ Furiosa on your ass.” 

Nicole smiles. “I’ll pack up, then.” 

-

Nicole must be an experienced outdoorsy person, because she packs up in under fifteen minutes and fits everything on her back. Waverly has to keep reminding herself to stop ogling Nicole’s ass whenever she climbs ahead of her, and she nearly has a heart attack when Nicole steadies her with a gentle hand on her back. 

Wynonna still seems wary of the newcomer, and she and Doc stay in the lead, leaving Waverly to stick with Nicole, who likes to chat. Not that Waverly doesn’t like to chat, but she’s still getting used to the amount of physical activity and needs to save her breath as much as possible. 

“So, Waverly, what do you do when you aren’t traipsing around the California desert?” Nicole asks as she pulls herself up onto the next outcropping. 

“I’m a grad student at the University of Calgary,” Waverly says, sizing up the rock and taking a running start. She misses the top, huffing in frustration when she hits the ground. 

“Here, take my hand,” Nicole says, crouching down and reaching out a long arm. “What do you study?” Waverly grips Nicole’s forearm and together they get her onto the rock. 

“History,” Waverly answers, reluctantly sliding her hand from Nicole’s arm to hang at her side. They trek up a small slope, Waverly’s eyes trained on Nicole’s french braid. She’d watched skillful hands weave the braid before they headed out, and the way the sun is bouncing off the copper hair now is kind of mesmerizing. 

“Sounds interesting,” Nicole says, and she doesn’t sound like she’s just saying it to be polite. “I took a history course once, about the Renaissance.” She shudders dramatically and Waverly laughs. 

“Didn’t enjoy it?” 

“I think it was possibly the lowest grade I’ve ever received,” Nicole laughs. 

“So what do you do now, when you aren’t out climbing rocks?” Waverly asks, wishing Nicole at least had an ugly laugh, because it isn’t fair that one woman gets to be so perfect. 

Nicole hops across a small gap and waits for Waverly to follow before answering. “I’m a cop, actually. Well, I just finished training. So I thought I’d take some time off to travel, find myself and all that good stuff.” 

“You know, most people go a little further and more exotic than California,” Waverly teases, and she’s rewarded with another perfect laugh from Nicole. 

“Well, student loans are a bitch,” she explains, “and besides, I’ve always like climbing. It felt too easy to just take the classic route of traveling around Europe.” 

“I’ve always wanted to go to Europe,” Waverly sighs, wistful. “I just sort of kept going back to school, and then Wynonna showed up with this, so…maybe someday.” 

Nicole smiles at her, her eyes warm and Waverly blushes. They walk for a while in silence, Nicole calling out to correct Wynonna’s trajectory every now and then. Waverly almost cries in relief when they finally reach a high outcropping and Wynonna holds up her hand, peering over the edge. 

“We’re here,” she says quietly, and the three treasure hunters take cover behind bushes and rocks. Nicole’s brow furrows adorably in confusion, but she crouches with Waverly behind a dry desert shrub. 

“What’s going on?” She asks, aware enough to keep her voice down. 

Waverly tries to think of some sort of answer that doesn’t sound crazy, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly. Nicole urges her to speak with a look, and Waverly’s about to try and stumble her way through a poorly crafted explanation, but then a bullet ricochets off a nearby rock and Nicole is pushing her to the ground, covering Waverly’s body with her own. 

“Shit!” Wynonna yells, and she peers over the rock she’s behind, cocking her gun and taking aim. “What the hell happened?” 

“Must have been expecting us,” Doc answers, firing his twin pistols down at the men below them. 

“No shit, Sherlock!” Wynonna says. 

Waverly looks up at Nicole, who is still hovering above her with a slightly frightened but determined face. Waverly’s heart pounds, and she tries to blame it all on the life-threatening situation she’s in. 

“Are you okay?” Nicole asks.

Waverly nods, and she points at a nearby rock. “We should probably take cover behind something more solid.” Nicole nods in agreement, and she gets off Waverly, placing her body between Waverly and the direction of the shooting. They crouch-crawl to the rock, leaning up against it. Nicole tosses her backpack on the ground and digs through it. Waverly grabs her shotgun and primes it, ignoring the surprised look on Nicole’s face.

“Seriously, Waverly, what the hell is going on?” Her voice is insistent, and Waverly winces in apology, leaning around the rock and trying to take a look at what’s going on below. A bullet whizzes by her head and she dives back behind the rock. 

“Okay, okay,” Waverly says, her voice high-pitched and anxious, “Wynonna and I are hunting for the treasure of the _Iqueue_ , and so are these guys. I don’t really know who they are or what _exactly_ is their justification for shooting at us, but that’s the gist!” 

Nicole gapes at her and then seems to come to some sort of decision, shutting her mouth and grabbing a rope from her pack. She tests the strength of the rock they’re behind, nodding when she’s sure it’s firmly attached to the rock beneath them, and Waverly watches as quick hands secure the rope around the rock, knot being tied and double checked. 

“Wynonna, Doc!” Nicole yells, and they both look over to her. “We’re getting out of here. My car is close. If we run, we can make it!” 

Wynonna and Doc exchange a look, and then they’re nodding. “You two go, we’ll cover you!” Wynonna instructs. Nicole nods, and she looks at Waverly. 

“Do you trust me?” She asks.

“I hardly know you!” Waverly says. Nicole tilts her head, eyes pleading. Waverly sighs. “I trust you.” 

“Good,” Nicole says, and then she’s awkwardly pulling on a climbing harness and attaching it to the rope. She pulls on her pack and moves to the edge of the cliff. She tests the rope and nods. “Okay, koala me.” 

“What?” Waverly squeaks. 

“Koala me,” Nicole repeats, “climb on me, hold on to me, whatever you want to call it, just hurry up and do it before I lose my nerve!” Waverly shakes her head.

“There’s no way this can support that weight,” she protests, “and I’m sorry, but there’s no way you can be that strong!” 

“Rude,” Nicole says. “Look, I’ve only known you a few hours, but I’d hate to see you get shot to death on some big ass rock in California’s shittiest desert, you’re way too pretty for that, so just-just do it!” Waverly throws her hands up in surrender, packing her gun away and hefting her backpack onto her shoulders. Her arms wrap around Nicole’s neck. “Okay, when I jump, wrap your legs around my waist,” Nicole instructs. Waverly nods, and then Nicole jumps and they’re falling. Waverly clings tightly to Nicole, and she hears the redhead swearing rapidly as she tries to gain control over their descent, her feet scrabbling against the cliff face. Waverly shuts her eyes tightly, sending up a silent prayer to every god she can name. Then they halt abruptly and Nicole laughs. 

“It worked?” Waverly asks.

“It’s working,” Nicole laughs, and Waverly tries to ignore the surprise in her voice. Nicole starts belaying them slowly, and Waverly stops panicking enough to take note that Nicole smells like vanilla and a little like sweat. Their feet touch ground and Nicole’s hands support Waverly on the backs of her thighs. She gently lets her down, and climbs out of her harness, leaving it attached to the rope. Once the rope starts being pulled up, Nicole looks at Waverly and smiles, dimples on full display. 

“You’re damn lucky that worked,” Waverly says, but she’s smiling too, and then they’re both just standing there like two idiots smiling at each other. 

“I’m damn lucky you actually koala-ed me,” Nicole says with a wink. 

Waverly blushes, but she can see a similar shade on Nicole’s cheeks that wasn’t there a second ago. 

They watch as Wynonna then Doc descend, and Nicole laments about losing her rope, and then they take off. Nicole sets a quick pace with her long legs. They reach a beat up four by four quickly, and Waverly’s glad Nicole has a different definition of ‘close’ than Wynonna does. They all climb in, the Earps in the backseat. Doc navigates as Nicole drives them back to their campsite. The drive is way quicker and way less awful than the long trek on foot. No one speaks as they pack up, tossing the gear in Nicole’s truck and setting off again. They drive in silence for miles, Nicole following Doc’s instructions to head south. 

As they near the Mexican border, Wynonna finally breaks the long silence. “Well, that was a ride.” 

“You have got some serious explaining to do,” Waverly says, kicking Wynonna in the shin. She meets Nicole’s eyes in the rearview and smiles. Nicole ducks her head the slightest bit, and Waverly’s heart settles contently.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to all of you lovely people who left kudos and who left those really kind and lovely comments :) I hope I'm piquing your interest as it goes, this is such fun writing project for me combining almost all my interests. Thanks for reading!


	3. and still he crept along the plain

In a roadside motel in northern Mexico, Nicole Haught is lying as still as she can on a lumpy bed with Waverly Earp curled up on the other side. She still isn’t sure how she got in this position - on the run from mercenaries with a band of treasure hunters and sharing a bed with the most beautiful girl she’s ever seen - and she can’t quite hide her discomfort. Wynonna had refused to share a bed with anyone and Doc was some sort of southern gentlemanly type who “would not lie” with someone he wasn’t banging or whatever. So Waverly had patted Nicole on the arm and promised she didn’t snore, and three hours later Nicole is still awake and very uncomfortable. 

She looks over at Waverly, who sleeps as angelically as promised, her face peaceful and not a single snort escaping her or patch of drool on the pillow. Across the room, Wynonna is snoring like a trucker, her mouth hanging open. Nicole sighs and sits up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and grabbing her sweater. She carefully opens the door and closes it quietly behind her, pulling her sweater down over her head and sitting on the nearby bench. 

“Evening, Miss Haught,” Doc says from where he’s leaning up against the wall on the other side of the door, and Nicole nearly jumps out of her skin. 

“Jesus,” she gasps. 

Doc smiles and comes to sit beside her. “My apologies, I did not intend to startle you,” he says, voice all drawl. 

“It’s fine, just a little jumpy still,” she reassures him, resisting the urge to press two fingers to her pulse. “Couldn’t sleep, either?” 

“I’m afraid not,” he says, “I had forgotten how… _enthusiastic_ Wynonna is when she sleeps.” 

Nicole snorts. “I think you mean how she snores like old man with respiratory problems.” Doc chuckles, tilting his hat back and regarding Nicole with piercing blue eyes. 

“I hope you do not mind me saying,” he starts, and Nicole feels her hackles start to raise, “but I am surprised you’re still here.” 

“So am I, to be honest,” she sighs. “This whole thing is just crazy, honestly. I mean, a lost desert ship’s treasure being taken by early American pioneers and transported to the Caribbean? And the heirs of one of those men hunting for it and being hunted by a private army-for-hire?” She blows out a puff of air, shaking her head. “Sounds so stupid it just might be true.” 

“I assure you, it is completely true,” Doc says. “And if anyone is going to find it, it’ll be the Earp sisters.” He flicks the butt of his cigarette to the ground and Nicole watches as the embers at the end fizzle out slowly. 

“Well, I guess I’ll just see where this takes me,” she says, “that was sort of the point of my trip anyways.” 

Doc smiles, holding hid hand out to her. Nicole takes it, and Doc gives it a firm shake. “Welcome aboard, Miss Haught.” 

-

They drive to Ensenada, Wynonna in the shotgun seat and fooling around with Nicole’s radio. Waverly and Doc sit in the back, playing some sort of card game that has Waverly laughing and Nicole’s heart fluttering. She focuses on the road and the music, tapping her fingers on the wheel to keep her attention from the angel in the backseat. 

The drive takes just under four hours with pit stops, and they check into another motel. Waverly sets up her notes on one of the beds, and Wynonna and Doc go out to get food for the group. 

Nicole hovers awkwardly around the room, unsure what her role is supposed to be when they aren’t driving. 

“Can I help with anything?” She asks Waverly. 

“Sure, can you help me put these up on the wall?” Waverly hands her a stack of papers. “They’re already sorted in chronological order, so just make a reasonable line from left to right, please.” Nicole nods, grabbing the tacks that Waverly hands her and sets about putting the papers up. There are few moments where she’s awkwardly stretched out, trying to avoid any possible contact with Waverly for fear she’ll combust, but then she catches Waverly looking at her with her bottom lip caught between her teeth, and Nicole starts stretching a little more than necessary. 

“How’s that?” Nicole asks. 

“It’s perfect, thanks Nicole,” Waverly says with a smile. She looks back down to the journal she’s been studying, and Nicole sits down next to her, the bed dipping and causing their shoulders to brush. 

“What’re you looking for?” Nicole asks, peering over Waverly’s shoulder to look at the old pages with scrawled handwriting. 

Waverly looks up, turning her head to answer, but she misjudges how close Nicole already is and their foreheads bump together. “Oh, shoot, sorry!” Waverly says, wincing as she rubs her own head. Nicole smiles waving her off.

“’s’fine,” she says. “Tell me about this journal.” 

Waverly smiles, shy and totally adorable. “Well, this guy James Lyle wrote it. He was one of the original discoverers of the _Iqueue_ and her treasure. The story goes that he and a bunch of his pioneer buddies were trekking through the desert, and they stumbled upon this beat up and really ill group of Spanish mutineers. In true American fashion, they go in guns blazing and kill all the Spaniards, taking their treasure. Only problem was what to do with it.” She carefully flips through the pages and finds the entry she’s looking for. “So they apparently debated it for like, two weeks, and the general consensus was that they didn’t want the crown or the revolutionaries to take it.” 

Nicole is nodding along, and she’s totally engrossed. Maybe it’s just the way Waverly’s telling the story, or the fact that it’s _Waverly_ telling it, but she’s pretty sure she’s never heard a more interesting tale in her life. 

“They agree to take it south,” Waverly says, “and that’s where this journal ends. _But_ ,” and then she’s pulling out a typed up page and handing it to Nicole, “this is a transcription of the story my daddy used to tell us. Apparently one of the Earp ancestors was part of that original treasure crew, and when he came home and settled his family, he told of how they took it over the sea, around the coast and over land into the Caribbean sea.” She digs through her own notebook and shows Nicole a map of Central and South America with a red line drawn carefully around Baja California and the west coasts of Central American countries. 

“This is the route?” Nicole clarifies, leaning in and getting hit with the smell of Waverly’s shampoo, something floral and utterly intoxicating. 

“It’s my best guess,” Waverly says with a shrug. “Estimating currents, the general sea routes of the day, the spots with the highest incidences of piracy that would have been avoided, and-“ She cuts herself off and blushes. “Sorry, that’s not really the interesting part, is it?” 

Nicole puts her hand over Waverly’s and looks at her through her eyelashes. “Waverly, this is amazing. _You’re_ amazing,” she says, her smile soft and genuine. “I mean, look at all this! This is all you. Timelines, accounts, nautical maps…” Nicole trails off and laughs, light and almost disbelieving. “Waverly, this is unbelievable.” 

Waverly’s cheeks are flushed and she’s looking down at their hands. “I don’t know,” she says, “what twenty-two year old spends their time on this type of stuff?” 

Nicole hates the insecurity in her voice, and she laces their fingers together. “The best kind.” 

Waverly looks up at her, eyes wide and lips slightly parted and Nicole really hopes her palms don’t start sweating too badly, because her heart is racing and Waverly is looking at her like she’s just hung the moon. There’s a moment where she thinks Waverly is going to say something, or lean forward, and her breath smells like cinnamon gum. 

Then the door flies open and Wynonna comes in swinging two paper bags around with a cheeky grin, and Waverly is jumping so far back from Nicole that she almost falls off the bed. 

“Tacos!” Wynonna says, tossing a bag at Nicole who barely catches it, seeing as she’s still trying to catch her breath from Waverly’s presence. Wynonna flops down on the other bed and Doc pulls up the armchair. “How’s the research going, baby girl?” 

Waverly clears her throat and waves her hands around. “Oh, you know, it’s fine, all good, totally normal stuff,” she says. Nicole nods, digging through the bag, the delicious smell of cooked meat and vegetables wafting up to her nostrils, and holds out the two wrapped up tacos. She looks between the two and then at Waverly. 

“One is vegetarian,” Wynonna says, pretending to vomit.

“Which one?” Waverly asks. 

“I dunno, the one without meat?” Wynonna shoots back. Nicole rolls her eyes and unwraps one, sniffing it. 

“I think this is fish,” she says, handing the other one to Waverly. Their fingers brush together and Waverly pulls the food away like Nicole’s burned her. Nicole feels a tightness in her throat, and she tries to subtly shuffle to the edge of the bed. She looks over at Waverly, who is actively avoiding her gaze and staring at the opposite wall instead. Nicole clenches her jaw against the frustrated and embarrassed tears she can feel prickling at the back of her eyes. 

“So Doc and I thought we’d stick around here for a few days, plan out our next move and see if there’s any evidence of those asshole pioneers stopping in for a rest at this port.” Wynonna says through a mouthful of taco.

“That’s good, good plan,” Waverly says. She chews thoughtfully on a bite of her taco, and then lights up. “We can go see the blowhole!” 

Nicole almost chokes. Wynonna is cackling, even Doc is snickering into his food. 

“Oh, grow up,” Waverly scolds, “it’s a _geyser_.” 

“Geyser? I hardly know ‘er!” Wynonna jokes, and Nicole thinks she hasn’t heard a worse joke in years, but the delight on Wynonna’s face is unmistakable. “Well, I will not be going out to the blowhole, but knock yourself out.” 

“I’ll take you,” Nicole blurts out. Waverly looks at her, her eyes as shocked as Nicole feels. “Um, if you wanted, that is,” she mumbles. 

“Yeah, that would be good,” Waverly says quietly, giving Nicole a small smile. Nicole’s heart stutters, and she smiles shy and quiet.

-

The blowhole ends up being pretty much what it sounds like, a giant hole that blows up water and air. Nicole gets her fill after about four blows, but Waverly is leaning over the guardrail and staring into the hole with total awe on her face. So Nicole sits nearby on a rock and watches Waverly watch the geyser until she feels creepy and just decides to watch the crowd as a whole.

She’s busy watching a mother walk her overweight child on a leash when Waverly sits down beside her, an exhilarated smile on her face. 

“That is _so_ cool,” she says, and Nicole can’t help the grin that takes over her face. 

“It’s pretty cool,” she agrees. They sit in silence until Nicole has to break it. “Are you- do you want to get some food?” 

Waverly smiles at her, open and friendly. “Yeah, I’d love to.” 

They stroll around until Waverly decides she wants a churro, or three, and they sit under a tree, quietly eating their pastry sticks. 

“How old are you?” Waverly asks, cutting the silence. 

“Twenty-four,” Nicole answers. Waverly bobs her head in acknowledgement. “How old did you think I was?”

“I don’t know,” Waverly says with a shrug, “I guess I thought you were older? But then also younger, since you aren’t like, employed or anything.” Nicole raises her eyebrows, and Waverly winces. “Oh gosh, that sounded way worse than it was meant to. I just meant, y’know, most people by twenty-six or something have some sort of job that makes it hard for them to drive a bunch of strangers to Mexico.” 

Nicole laughs, nudging Waverly’s shoulder with her own. “Hey, I get it. Trust me, if my parents had their way, I’d be working in a cubicle already.”

“What did they want you to be?” Waverly asks, wiping the sugar off her hands on her pants. 

“An accountant,” Nicole says, miming a gag and making Waverly giggle. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not really the sit still and think type. Also, math sucks.” 

“Math doesn’t suck,” Waverly says, “math is so easy. It’s straight up and totally formulated.” 

“Hm, but consider this,” Nicole holds up her hand, “it sucks.” Waverly laughs, smacking Nicole’s arm. The redhead pretends it hurts, rubbing it with a pout. 

“Maybe math isn’t the one who sucks here,” Waverly teases.

“I only suck if you ask real nice,” Nicole flirts with a wink, and she takes great pleasure in the pretty blush that covers Waverly’s cheeks. 

“You’re a little insufferable, aren’t you?” Waverly says, clearing her throat. 

Nicole shrugs. “I’ve been told my arrogance can have a certain charm to it.” 

“Oh really?”

“Really,” she says, leaning in close and stopping a few inches from Waverly’s face. “What, you don’t find me charming, Waverly Earp?” Nicole feels a little breathless, but she keeps her confident smile locked in place. 

“I’m in a relationship!” Waverly blurts out and Nicole leans back. “I’m in a relationship,” Waverly repeats, “with a boy- man!” Her lips press together and she looks over Nicole’s shoulder. 

“A boy-man?” Nicole says, trying to keep her tone lighter than the lead that’s just formed in her stomach. Waverly nods, and she keeps avoiding Nicole’s eyes. “I’ve been there. It’s the worst,” Nicole says, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “So, where is this boy-man?” 

“Oh, he’s back home,” Waverly says, her voice still nervous. 

“In Calgary?” 

“Purgatory, actually,” Waverly clarifies, “my hometown. He’s a, uh, a ranch-hand.” 

An image of Waverly riding off into the sunset on the back of a horse with a tall dark and handsome cowboy comes unbidden into Nicole’s mind, and her jaw tightens. 

“And he didn’t want to come search out his fortune with you?” Nicole asks, trying desperately to keep her exterior cool. 

Waverly fiddles with the ends of her hair. “I didn’t exactly tell him,” she mumbles. “I’m pretty sure he still thinks I’m in Calgary. Then again, he didn’t exactly _ask_.” 

Nicole doesn’t want to pass judgement on a relationship she doesn’t know anything about, but inside she’s already one hundred percent sure that Waverly deserves better than some cowboy who can’t even be bothered to check in on his girlfriend. 

“Have you been together long?” Nicole asks. 

“Since my senior year of high school,” Waverly says, with a sigh that sounds more resigned than wistful. 

“That’s a long time to be with one person,” Nicole says with a low whistle. 

“For one of us,” Waverly mutters. “Sorry, I’m sorry, that’s not something you need to hear about.” 

Nicole tilts her head, and she gives Waverly soft eyes. “If it’s something you want to talk about, I’ll listen.” 

Waverly looks back at her with something like awe, and Nicole thinks that maybe Waverly isn’t used to people wanting to listen, because her eyes shimmer slightly and she looks like Nicole has just offered her something far better than an ear.

“It’s nothing,” Waverly says, “just…well, I don’t know how _much_ of a relationship I’m in, you know? I heard from Chrissy that Champ was seen going home with Samantha Baker on the same night he was boasting about having bought me an engagement ring.” 

Nicole tries to swallow the lump in her throat. “He proposed?” 

Waverly laughs, bitter and sharp. “Does it matter? He’s a pig. I mean, he’s sweet and he cares for me, he was the only person who didn’t care I was Wynonna’s sister. And I know it’s been hard while I’ve been away.” She sighs again, and Nicole hates the resignation in her voice, like Waverly doesn’t believe she’s worth more than a cheating boyfriend and a small-town marriage before she’s twenty-five. 

“Well, have _you_ cheated on _him_?” Nicole asks, careful to sound as diplomatic as possible. She’s reminded of her academy courses in dealing with perps, in talking down situations. This feels a little like that. 

“ _No!_ ” Waverly exclaims. “What, do you think I would?” 

“No, no,” Nicole backpedals, “I just, well, if you haven’t cheated, why is it okay that he did?” 

“I’m the one that left,” Waverly explains, and Nicole has to keep from scoffing. 

“If that’s your reasoning, maybe you need to re-evaluate your relationship,” Nicole says, and Waverly glares at her. 

“It’s really none of your business,” she says, haughty, “You don’t even know me. So maybe just butt out, okay?” Her arms cross over her chest and her jaw sticks out, defiant and angry. 

Nicole sighs. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She tries to give Waverly an apologetic smile, but the smaller girl is avoiding her eyes. Nicole taps her hands on her thighs, puffing out a breath, awkward and uncomfortable. “We should head back.” She stands up, offering Waverly a hand, but Waverly ignores it, getting to her feet and marching ahead of Nicole. 

_Way to go, Haught._

-

They stay in Ensenada for a few more days, days spent lounging around the motel and wandering the streets. Nicole feels even more like an outsider now that Waverly is no longer trying to be friendly anymore, her anger rolling off her in waves. The Earp sisters stick together when the four of them wander around, Doc happy to stroll in silence and watching Wynonna and Waverly laugh and try to haggle with vendors. By the third day that they go out, Nicole elects to stay in the motel room instead. She watches almost four hours of telenovelas, her mind going as numb as her legs when she tries to stand up and go to the bathroom. 

She’s still swirling in a pool of regret and stubborn pride for pissing off Waverly. It wasn’t her place to comment on Waverly’s relationship, but she couldn’t help that she wanted Waverly to know she deserves better. And now she’s alienated herself from the one person who was actively trying to include her as best she could. Doc and Wynonna aren’t hostile by any means, but Nicole has a feeling they’re both less about interpersonal relationships and more about getting their jobs done. 

Which leaves Nicole here, in this motel room, watching telenovelas and quietly bemoaning her big mouth. 

She’s practicing different knots with one of her ropes when everyone comes back. Wynonna dashes to the bathroom, claiming the sea air is bad for her hair. Doc offers Nicole a small smile before he grabs his coat and heads back out, probably for a smoke. Which leaves Nicole and Waverly in the room alone, with the sound of the shower playing background to Nicole’s heart pounding against her ribs. Nicole focuses on her knots, fumbling through a Munter hitch in her desperation to avoid looking at Waverly. 

“What’re you doing?” Waverly’s voice is quiet, but Nicole hears it loud and clear. She looks up from her rope and waves it around awkwardly. 

“Practicing some knots,” Nicole says, and Waverly nods. There’s a few beats of silence, punctuated by what sounds like Wynonna dropping a bottle of shampoo. 

“Could you maybe teach me some?” Waverly looks so hopeful and Nicole thinks this might be her way of apologizing, so she nods and Waverly comes to sit beside her on the bed. 

“This is a Munter hitch,” Nicole explains, “it’s used for belaying.” 

“That’s going down, right?” Waverly clarifies, and Nicole nods. “Cool.” Nicole digs into her bag and grabs another rope and carabiner, handing them to Waverly. She slowly demonstrates the hitch, and Waverly copies easily. 

“This is probably the most basic hitch,” Nicole says. Waverly holds hers up with a grin. 

“Easy peasy,” she says. 

Nicole smiles tightly, still unsure where they stand. “Another?” 

“Yes please,” Waverly says. 

“Okay, how about a butterfly loop?” Nicole straightens out her rope and holds it out in front of her. 

“I like the name,” Waverly says, nudging Nicole’s shoulder. She gives Nicole a smile, coaxing a looser smile from Nicole, and the redhead has to take a second to clear her head before focusing back on the rope. 

“This one’s a little more complicated,” Nicole says, going step by step slowly so that Waverly can follow along. “It’s used to create a loop in the bight, if you can’t access either end of your rope.” 

Waverly does the knot a few times by herself. “You know, this really is _knot_ that hard,” she jokes, and Nicole snorts, shaking her head.

“That is a terrible pun,” she says. 

“You still laughed,” Waverly points out with a toothy grin. “Come on, give me a real challenge, Haught.” 

“If you think you’re ready for it, _Earp_ ,” Nicole teases. 

“Hit me with your best knot,” Waverly shoots back, and Nicole groans at the pun, flopping back on the bed. “Oh, come _on_ , that was _good_!” Waverly’s laugh is like the sweetest music to Nicole’s ears, and it washes over her in the best way. 

“You’re kind of ridiculous, aren’t you?” Nicole says, looking up at Waverly’s smile and hoping the race her heart is running isn’t noticeable on her face. 

“I’ve been known to dabble,” Waverly says with a wink and Nicole melts. “Come on, teach me something.” Nicole sits up, untying her butterfly loop. 

“Okay, this is a one-handed bowline,” Nicole says. She holds the rope in her right hand and skillfully ties the knot, her fingers quickly securing the loop and pulling it tight. She unties it and shows it again, more slowly. Waverly tries to mimic her movements, but she fumbles and lets out an adorable “nuts!” and trying again. Nicole stifles a laugh and reaches over, gently guiding Waverly’s fingers through the movements. 

She tries really hard not to focus on how soft Waverly’s skin is, or how easily she lets Nicole take the lead and follows with a determined look in her eyes. The finished knot is looser than Nicole would use if she were actually counting on it to hold her up, but she holds her tongue and gives Waverly an encouraging smile.

“Not too bad, eh?” Nicole says, and Waverly shrugs.

“I don’t know if I’d ever let me tie a knot in any dire situation,” she says, “but we make a pretty good team.” 

Nicole flushes, her ears hot. “Yeah, I guess we do.” 

“I’m sorry I got so mad at you,” Waverly says, taking Nicole by surprise. “I know everything you said is true, but it’s different to hear someone so impartial say it, than to just think it or have your friends say it.” 

“We aren’t friends?” Nicole says, hoping to get Waverly’s mind off her stupid boyfriend and a stupid disagreement that doesn’t matter. She sends her best pout Waverly’s way, but her eyes are playful and Waverly rolls her eyes.

“We’re friends,” Waverly says, “stop looking so sad, are you a child?” Nicole smiles wide, her dimples on full display. Waverly laughs at her, tossing the knot in her hands at Nicole’s chest. Nicole catches it and deftly unties it with one hand. 

“I don’t know if I can be friends with someone who ties such a sloppy bowline,” Nicole sighs, wiggling the loose rope around in front of Waverly’s face. Waverly gasps and slaps it away. 

“Not all of us are so good with our hands,” she defends. 

Nicole laughs. “I _am_ pretty good with my hands,” she says, waggling her eyebrows. 

“Oh my god,” Waverly laughs, “do you ever turn it off?” 

“I try to never turn _anything_ off,” Nicole says.

“Sounds like some serious malarkey to me.”

Nicole places a hand over her heart. “You wound me, Waverly Earp.” Waverly laughs, snatching the rope out of Nicole’s hand.

“Okay, Haughtstuff, show me that bowline again.”

-

It’s their last night in Ensenada when Waverly jumps up from her place on the bed and cheers.

“Jesuits!” She yells. Wynonna looks up from the game of checkers she and Nicole are playing and narrows her eyes at her sister.

“Wait, I think I know this one,” she says, “something about a rabbi walking into a bar?” 

Waverly gives her sister a look that would be exasperated if she didn’t look so excited. “No, Jesuits! That’s the connection we’ve been looking for. I couldn’t figure out why there was record of stopping here, until I _remembered_ the Jesuit expulsion in 1768!” 

Nicole raises her hand like she’s in class. Waverly rolls her eyes and points at Nicole. “Go ahead, Nic.”

Nicole smiles quickly, before clearing her throat. “I might be the only one here who doesn’t know, but what the hell is the Jesuit Expulsion of 1768?”

“Seconded,” Wynonna says.

“Did you guys never take any Spanish colonial history?” Waverly asks, and when both Wynonna and Nicole shake their heads, she huffs. “Unbelievable. Okay, so do you at least know who the Jesuits are?”

“Baby girl, for the purposes of saving time, let’s just assume neither of us know anything,” Wynonna says. “About anything. Ever. Full rundown required.” Waverly gapes at them, and Nicole offers her a sheepish smile.

“The educational system really has failed the youth of today,” Waverly sighs. “Well, okay. The Jesuits are a congregation of the Spanish Catholic church that emerged in the sixteenth century, called the Society of Jesus.”

“Question,” Wynonna interrupts, “isn’t all Christianity the Society of Jesus, technically?” 

“Yes, I second that question,” Nicole adds, nodding approvingly at Wynonna. 

“They just commandeered the name, the founders believed they were the truest followers of Jesus’s teachings,” Waverly says. “The name isn’t really important here, okay?” Nicole and Wynonna acquiesce, gesturing for Waverly to continue. “Good. So, Jesuits. They founded a lot of universities and colleges, very involved in education, although a lot of their teachings were classical and theological. But they encouraged education in all disciplines. When they came to the Americas, they were one of the only forces that stood between the indigenous peoples and slavery, which obviously caused a big stink back in Spain.” 

“Sick band name,” Wynonna whispers to Nicole, who hides her snort of laughter behind her hand.

Waverly glares at them. “In Mexico, they were even more enthusiastic about evangelizing the indigenous peoples, and they were all about elite education. They took ownership of large expanses of land and created haciendas, which were essentially large estates that had some form of income creation. Plantations and stuff, and even though they were in favour of protecting the indigenous people, they had enormous numbers of African slaves.”

“Jesuits, more like Jesu-shits, am I right?” Wynonna jokes. Nicole shakes her head, and Wynonna winces. “Yeah, it felt wrong as I said it.”

“The point of this is that they had a really prominent and successful thing going on here,” Waverly says. “And they tried to skirt around episcopal hierarchies and taxes, which _also_ pissed off everyone who wasn’t a Jesuit. In 1767-68, everything came to a head and throughout multiple European empires, the Jesuits were suppressed with the goal of extinguishing their faith.” She stops and clasps her hands together in front of her chest, a wide smile spreading across her face.

Wynonna waits a moment before she widens her eyes and waves her hands. “That was a great lecture Waves, I feel very enlightened, but how the hell does any of this help us?”

“Well, the Jesuits were expelled at around the same time our looters were passing through,” Waverly says, “looters who wouldn’t have much nautical experience. Jesuits would have been cartographers, people who knew about navigation and such.”

“So you think some of the Jesuits joined the Americans and helped them navigate their way?” Nicole asks.

“Exactly!” Waverly claps her hands together once and does a little twirl that has Nicole’s heart exploding with an overload of really gay feelings. “I just need to see if there are any surviving Jesuit nautical maps that can help me corroborate my own projections, and then I think we can keep moving.” She takes a deep breath and goes back to her bed, grabbing her tablet and starting to tap furiously.

“The best of us,” Wynonna says, her face all pride. Nicole nods, her eyes stuck on the way Waverly’s brow creases in the middle as she concentrates on the screen, her long hair pushed back over her shoulder. Waverly looks up and catches Nicole staring. She smiles at her, a little confused, and Nicole is too mesmerized to bother trying to look embarrassed at being caught out. Waverly blushes and looks back down at her screen. A second later she looks back up and meets Nicole’s eyes again. Nicole’s smile widens, and Waverly bites her bottom lip.

“Definitely the best,” is Nicole’s breathless and delayed reply to Wynonna.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to pace myself while developing wayhaught is potentially the hardest thing I've ever done, and I'm not sure I've done it...but hey. Thanks to all kudos people and comments people, and to everyone who gave this a read! You're all heroes :)


	4. what would he have? what does he seek?

Guerrero Negro is home to very large salt mines. Wynonna is relatively sure she’s still the saltiest thing here, but after the first five times she made that joke, it’s apparently gotten old. 

She and Doc took to the streets while Waverly and Nicole elected to hit the archives. Well, Waverly elected to hit the archives, and Nicole and Waverly are friends or something now, plus Wynonna still finds the redhead a little too brisk for her taste. So Wynonna made up the excuse of “searching on the beat” to get out of stuffy archives and goody-goody redheads, grabbed Doc and decided to soak up some November sun. 

They’re busy inspecting a small collection of whale figurines when Doc stiffens and whispers, “My dear, I do believe we have company.” Wynonna tries to take a casual look around, and she curses when she notices the conspicuously large and armed men starting to surround the small plaza. 

“Can’t we get one week where no one shoots at us?” She sighs, and Doc chuckles. 

“You’d get bored,” he says, and they share a smile. 

“Never a dull moment with me,” Wynonna says. 

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

“On three?” She hands the whale vendor a large wad of cash. “ _Lo siento, señora._ ” 

Doc counts to three, and when he hits three, they flip the table and hop behind it, taking cover as the Revenants start to fire at them. Wynonna peers over the table and fires at the nearest Revenant, hitting him in the arm. 

“My aim is off,” she whines, shooting another in the kneecap. “I swear I shoot better when I’m drunk.” 

Doc takes a few shots at a Revenant who has taken refuge behind a column. “Darlin’, you do _everything_ better when you’re drunk.” 

Wynonna laughs, incapacitating another Revenant. “Keep talking like that, cowboy, and I’ll show you just how good my aim can be.” She winks at him and takes a blind shot over the table, clipping a Revenant in the shoulder. 

“Now that must be the strangest line I have ever had the pleasure of hearing,” Doc says. “We’re pinned down. Tell Waverly to meet us back at the car, it’ll have to be a quick escape.” 

Wynonna nods, tapping out a quick text to Waverly ( _CAR. NOW. GET READY TO RUN._ ) and then she and Doc are rolling out from behind the table, making a dash behind a produce stand. The vendors and locals were all smart enough to seek refuge from the assholes with the guns, and Wynonna grabs a cucumber, taking a big bite. 

“Suddenly, I’m turned off,” Doc jokes. Wynonna rolls her eyes, grabbing a tomato and chucking it at an advancing Revenant. 

“Okay, we’re going to head back the way we came to get to the car,” Wynonna says through another mouthful of cucumber, pausing so they can both take a few shots. “As long as we keep heading towards to water, we’ll be fine.” She reloads Peacemaker, dropping the half-eaten cucumber to the ground.

“I look forward to seeing you there,” Doc says. He tips his hat at her, and then Wynonna is scrambling out from behind the stand, firing at random to give herself some cover. She leaps onto the next stand, climbing onto the roof and jumping to the awning of the building behind it. 

“I’m getting too old for this shit,” she grunts as she pulls herself up onto the balcony. Pushing through the doors and finding a long hallway, she takes off in search of a staircase. She finds one with a symbol that she’s pretty sure means “roof access” universally, so she takes the stairs two at a time and sends up a “thank you” to the god of roofs. The buildings are luckily pretty close together and she’s able to make fairly simple leaps from roof to roof. 

Until the roofs run out and she has to make a daring landing in someone’s garden. She rolls into the landing, and stands up wiping her hands on her knees. Just as she’s about to declare her brief venture into parkour a success, the cold muzzle of a gun is pressed into the back of her neck. 

“Hands up, Earp,” a cold voice says. Wynonna huffs, dropping Peacemaker and raising her hands. 

“Buy me a drink first,” she growls. The man behind her steps around her and she smiles, fake and hopefully menacing. “Bobo del Ray, what a pleasant surprise. I see you’re still wearing squirrels on your back and the top of your head.” 

Bobo narrows his eyes at her and gives a small bow. “I’d hate to disappoint.” 

“I’m sure your lovers appreciate that,” Wynonna sneers. 

“You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?” Bobo bites the air in front of Wynonna’s face, and she frowns in disgust. “Sadly, there’s no time for that. My employer is very eager to chat with you.” 

“How do I put this,” Wynonna says, pretending to think hard. “Um, fuck that, fuck you, and fuck off?” She nods, exaggerated and agitated. “Yeah, that just about covers it.” 

“Now now, that type of language isn’t very ladylike,” Bobo scolds. “Tsk, tsk.” 

Wynonna’s eyes widen and she tilts her head sharply. “You want ladylike? I’ll show you ladylike, you misogynistic pile of steaming horse turds!” With a speed that surprises even herself, Wynonna strikes out with her knee, nailing Bobo right in the crotch. She flicks Peacemaker up into her hands with her foot and takes off running. 

If only Doc could have seen that. 

Her feet pound on pavement, and she vaguely registers Doc calling her name as he appears beside her, but then more bullets are being fired at them and they’re too bust zig-zagging to catch up. 

“Left!” Doc yells, and they take a sharp turn left, almost running straight into Nicole and Waverly.

“Turn it on, turn it on!” Wynonna shouts at Nicole, who fumbles with the keys and gets the engine going. “Go! Just get us the fuck out of here!” Nicole nods, flooring the pedal, tires squealing as she peels out of the side street. Wynonna and Doc fire out the back of the four by four and Waverly helps Nicole navigate her way out of the city. 

“What the heck is going on?” Waverly asks as Wynonna places a bullet in the front tire of a pursuing motorcycle and making it flip off the road. 

“Revenants!” Wynonna shouts back as explanation. “They found us somehow, doesn’t matter how right now, just get us out of here!” 

Nicole Haught might be a bit of an uptight goody-goody, but _damn_ can she drive. Wynonna is genuinely impressed by the redhead’s ability to maneuver her way through traffic and hardly ever slow down. She doesn’t take her foot off the gas until they’re twenty minutes out of the city, zipping down the highway.

“Did you guys find anything in the archives?” Wynonna asks as they cruise down the open road. 

“Maybe,” Waverly says, “I’ll need to do some more reading, but I think we’re on the right track.” 

“Atta girl,” Wynonna praises, squeezing Waverly’s shoulder. 

Wynonna doesn’t relax until they’re setting up camp in the desert hours later, and Doc passes her a large bottle of tequila.

“You are an angel, John Henry,” she says, kissing the bottle of tequila and holding it close. 

“You could not be farther from the truth,” Doc says, pulling out four tin cups. Wynonna fills them all and hands one over to Waverly who is watching Nicole start a fire. The fire catches with a bit of encouragement a can of bugspray, and the four of them sit around it and sip their very strong drinks. 

“This is awful,” Nicole grimaces. 

“Toughen up, Haughtwheels,” Wynonna says. “If you’re traveling with the Earps, you’ve got to get used to drinking like them.” She raises her cup to Nicole, who sighs, but mirrors the action and takes a healthy sip.

“Ah, fuck my life,” Nicole hisses through her teeth. Waverly laughs and Doc pulls out a deck of cards. 

“Poker?” He offers. As he deals the cards, Wynonna looks up at the stars and takes a deep breath. Everything feels okay, things feel good, and she can’t stop the small smile that creeps onto her face. 

“Wynonna?” Waverly asks. Wynonna looks at her little sister and raises her eyebrows in question. “Are we dealing you in?” 

Wynonna grins and pulls Waverly in for a one-armed hug. “Always, baby girl.” 

-

Turns out, Nicole is really bad at poker. She keeps losing, and the random bits of stuff they’re betting with means she’s lost almost all of her favourite granola bars and Waverly can’t help but feel bad every time Doc or Wynonna cleans her out. Waverly isn’t nearly as bad as Nicole, but she did grow up in a saloon, so it isn’t her first rodeo. 

“And that’s another win for meeee,” Wynonna slurs, taking a healthy swig of her tequila. Waverly laughs as Nicole pouts, tossing her cards into the middle of the camping table and crossing her arms like a petulant child.

“You guys are cheating,” Nicole whines, “there’s no way I can be this unlucky.”

Wynonna gasps, and then promptly chokes on the air she just inhaled, breaking down into a coughing fit. Doc rubs her back, cigarette dangly limply from his lips as he shuffles the cards. 

“I assure you, Miss Haught,” Doc drawls, “we do not need to hornswoggle you in order to win.” He deals, ignoring the giggles from all the girls at his use of ‘hornswoggle’. 

Waverly folds immediately. She leans over and peeks at Nicole’s cards. The redhead is staring at them blankly, and Waverly sighs. 

“Nicole’s in,” she says, and Nicole looks at her, deer-in-headlights eyes fully engaged. Waverly grabs Nicole’s last granola bar and tosses it in the middle. 

“Give me two,” Wynonna calls. Doc complies, giving himself one. Wynonna curses and folds, leaving Doc and Nicole. 

“Well?” Nicole prompts. 

Doc smirks and puts his hat in the middle of the table. “I am all in.” 

Waverly can see Nicole trying to figure out his game, so she leans in and whispers, “Take him. You’ve got a full house. That’s pretty good.” Nicole turns to look at her, the tips of their noses brushing, causing Waverly to jump back a little. 

“Table talk!” Wynonna calls them out, and Doc waves her off.

“Let Waverly help,” he says, “Nicole seems like she needs it.” Nicole’s eyes narrow and she holds up a finger, going to her bag and rifling through it until she pulls out a turquoise ring. She sets it down carefully on top of Doc’s hat. 

“What’s it gonna be, midnight cowboy?” Nicole challenges. Doc lays his cards down, and Nicole mirrors his movements. He’s only got two pair, and Nicole leaps to her feet, cheering loudly. Waverly whoops with her, and they high-five messily. Wynonna is hitting Doc’s arm repeatedly, berating him for losing.

“Told you,” Waverly sing-songs. Nicole laughs and grabs her ring and granola bar back. Waverly takes Doc’s hat and stands on her toes to put it on Nicole’s head. It sits a little crooked, but Waverly’s heart speeds up when Nicole smiles at her from under the brim. 

“How do I look?” Nicole asks, tucking her thumbs into her belt. 

Waverly swallows. “Good, it’s good.” 

“Never bet the hat,” Doc mumbles to himself. Wynonna ruffles his hair and he scowls at her, but then she’s nodding in the direction of his tent and they’re making excuses to Nicole and Waverly and zipping the tent shut behind them. Waverly scrunches her face up, grossed out, and Nicole shakes her head. 

“I knew they were sleeping together,” Nicole says, both triumphant and disturbed. 

“Ugh, gross,” Waverly gags. Nicole laughs, bumping Waverly’s hip with her own. 

“Wanna get out of here?” 

Waverly looks around them. “Uh, we’re already kind of out, Nicole.” 

Nicole rolls her eyes and grabs a blanket. “Well, I don’t know about you,” she says, walking away backwards, “but I don’t want to stick around and listen to your sister and her cowboy have sex.” She pauses and Waverly huffs, grabbing a flashlight and another blanket. Nicole smiles and waits for Waverly to catch up before leading them away. The find a small outcropping of rock and Nicole boosts Waverly up before taking a running leap and using her significant height advantage to vault onto the rock. Waverly watches Nicole lay one of the blankets down on the ground, sitting down and patting the ground next to her. Waverly sits down, keeping her limbs tucked close to her body. Nicole looks at her curiously, a look Waverly just can’t deal with analyzing right now. 

“So what’re we going to do?” Waverly asks. Nicole grabs the other blanket and drapes it over their legs. 

“Well, it’s not every night that I get to be out in the desert with a pretty girl,” Nicole says. “I thought we could stargaze.” Nicole lies down and nudges Waverly’s foot. 

Waverly tenses a little, but she lies down stiffly beside Nicole. She clasps her hands together, resting them on her stomach, thumbs twitching and feet tapping restlessly. 

“We can go back,” Nicole says, and her voice is that soft and unsure tone that breaks Waverly’s heart. “If you’re uncomfortable with this.” Waverly turns her head and looks over at Nicole, who’s looking up at the sky. Waverly thinks she might be imagining the wet shine in Nicole’s eyes, or the tightness of her jaw, but it makes her feel worse either way. 

“I’m not uncomfortable,” Waverly says. “I guess I just don’t know what you want from me.” 

Nicole looks over at her, shock all over her face. “I don’t want anything from you, Waverly.” She blinks and shakes her head slightly. “I would never ask you for anything.” She sounds so sincere, and Waverly feels her chest warm at the genuine tone of voice, the honest words. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Nicole says with a small smile. Waverly returns it, and then she scoots a little closer to Nicole, looking back to the sky and pointing. 

“That’s Cassiopeia,” Waverly says, tracing the line of stars. “She was the wife of King Cepheus. She boasted that she was more beautiful than the Nereids. One of the Nereids was married to Poseidon, and she got him to send a monster to ravage the coast of Cepheus’s kingdom. To try and appease the Nereids and call off the monster, she and her husband chained their daughter Andromeda to a rock as a sacrifice.”

“Perseus saved her, right?” Nicole cuts in, and Waverly looks over at her, blinking a little in shock when she sees Nicole already watching her with an awestruck expression. 

“Um, yeah,” Waverly says, wetting her suddenly dry lips with her tongue. “Yeah, Perseus swooped in and saved her at the last minute.”

“Lucky,” Nicole comments. Waverly hums in agreement. 

“It’s also part of the Chinese star cluster Wangliang,” Waverly continues, dragging her eyes from Nicole’s face before she gets too lost in deep brown eyes. “Wangliang was a charioteer, and when he was asked by a man named Hsi to drive for his hunt, he agreed. But Hsi was upset when they didn’t catch any birds, calling him the worst charioteer in the world. Wangliang asked for another chance, and this time they caught ten birds. Hsi then asked Wangliang to be his full-time charioteer.” She looks at Nicole, who has averted her gaze back to the sky, and Waverly gets lost tracing the outline of her profile.

“Did he agree?” Nicole prompts. 

“What?”

“Wangliang,” Nicole says, looking over at Waverly and raising an eyebrow, “did he agree to be Hsi’s charioteer?”

“Oh, uh, no,” Waverly says, “he refused. See, the first time he had driven by the rules. But the second time he had intentionally driven into the birds to help Hsi catch more. And Wangliang refused to drive for a dishonourable hunter.” 

“How do you know so much?” Nicole asks, lips parted and eyes wide. 

Waverly shrugs, trying to decide whether Nicole’s eyes or her lips are more distracting. “I read a lot when I was a kid,” she says, “and I guess I still do. I didn’t have the easiest time growing up. Books and stories were a way to escape that, to remember that there’s always more out there.” 

Nicole nods. “Well, Waverly Earp, you are _extraordinary_.” Waverly feels the blush in her cheeks and the same warmth spread through her entire body. Nicole’s words are like a warm fire, or a thick blanket, providing warmth and comfort. Waverly smiles in thanks, and they both look back to the sky. 

“I once tried to learn about constellations,” Nicole says. “But I could never sit still long enough to find them.” Waverly laughs softly, and Nicole grins. “I did much better with learning how to defend myself against monsters, rather than finding them.” She shifts under the blanket, tucking her hands behind her head, her long legs sticking out at the end of the blanket. 

They lie there in silence, and the warmth rolling off of Nicole’s body soothes Waverly until her eyelids are drooping. She vaguely registers Nicole saying something, but then the world fades and she drifts into a deep sleep. 

-

She’s woken only hours later by the bright morning sun, pleasantly warm under the blanket and the warm body curled around hers. 

_Wait a minute_. 

Waverly cracks her eyes open and sees a pale hand resting limply in front of her face. The arm it’s attached to is under her head, a strange pillow. She shifts and turns, coming nose to nose with Nicole for the second time in under six hours. Nicole’s breath hits her in soft puffs, and there’s a tiny patch of drool by the corner of her mouth. Waverly carefully leans back, but Nicole grumbles sleepily, following the heat source and Waverly’s breath hitches when Nicole’s nose presses against her temple. It all feels a little too right, and that’s what makes Waverly’s heart stutter in panic. 

“Um, Nicole?” She tries, voice muted from sleep, and she clears her throat. “Nicole?” She shakes the redhead’s shoulder gently, and Nicole’s eyes open slowly. A sleepy smile settles on her bowed lips, and then her eyes fly wide open and she’s scrambling back.

“Waverly!” Her eyes are comically wide and she’s clumsily jumping to her feet before Waverly can say anything. “I am _so_ sorry, oh my god, I _swear_ I didn’t meant to invade your personal space!” 

“Nicole, it’s fine,” Waverly tries to reassure her, but Nicole is shaking her head and she looks so upset. 

“We should head back,” Nicole says, and Waverly hates the pang that shoots through her stomach at the way Nicole is avoiding her eyes. 

“Nicole…” Waverly trails off. But Nicole just waits for her to stand, and then she’s rolling up their blankets and putting Doc’s hat back on her head. She hops down from the rock and waits for Waverly, reaching out to steady her when she lands, but then she seems to catch herself and pulls her hand back before it can reach Waverly’s back. 

She walks a few paces ahead of Waverly, and Waverly wraps her arms around herself. She isn’t sure if she did something wrong, or if _Nicole_ thinks she’s done something wrong, but she hates the tension that’s back between them. Maybe it was the tequila that made last night so easy? But Waverly knows that isn’t it, she just _knows_ that the alcohol played no part in the connection she feels with Nicole. 

So she powers her legs and grabs Nicole’s wrist. Nicole yanks her hand away like Waverly’s on fire, and Waverly tries to ignore the sharp pain in her chest.

“Nicole, stop being weird,” Waverly says, and _really? So eloquent, Waverly_. “You didn’t do anything wrong, okay?” 

Nicole looks at her, brow pulled together. “I know I didn’t do anything wrong,” she says, slow and wary. “I’m-I’m embarrassed, okay?” 

Waverly frowns. “Why?”

Nicole shrugs, looking down at her feet. “Because.”

“Oh my gosh, if you’re going to be a child about this, then forget it,” Waverly says, and she moves to walk away but then Nicole speaks up.

“I’m embarrassed because I don’t want to seem like some-some desperate lesbian predator, okay?” 

Waverly’s eyebrows shoot up, and she can hardly believe her ears. “Is that what you think I see you as?”

“I don’t know,” Nicole says, “it could be.” 

Waverly wants to hug or slap Nicole, because she really looks like she needs a good hug, but she’s also acting a little ridiculous. So she steps forward and puts her hands on Nicole’s arms. “Look at me, Nicole,” she orders, and it’s staggering how Nicole looks at her, like she’s got every answer to every question in Nicole’s heart. “You are _not_ some predator, and you being a lesbian is about as significant to me as-as that cactus over there!” Nicole’s lips twitch upwards and Waverly lifts her chin up with her finger. “So stop beating yourself up over nothing.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” she says, tipping Doc’s hat at Waverly. 

“Good,” Waverly says. “Now, we’re going to hug it out.” She wraps her arms around Nicole’s neck and holds her close, smiling into the material of Nicole’s jacket when strong arms slide around her waist. They stand like that under the warm desert sun until Waverly feels herself starting to drift off again in Nicole’s arms. She pulls back and makes sure Nicole is smiling, and then they continue back to the campsite, going to their separate tents for a few more hours of sleep. Nicole gives her one last smile before zipping up her tent flap, and Waverly melts all over again at the sight of Nicole’s curved lips and dimples. She flops back on her thermo-rest and exhales slowly. 

-

When Waverly crawls out of her tent, Nicole is crouched by the fire, Doc’s hat still pulled onto her head. Doc is sitting across the fire, frowning at the hat. Waverly walks over and pulls a folding chair over, placing it beside Nicole and sitting down, her legs tucked under her body and her head resting in her hand. 

“Howdy,” Waverly says, flicking the brim of Nicole’s hat. Nicole looks up and smiles.

“Howdy,” she mimics, her voice all fake southern drawl and her smile all dimples. They stare at each other, both smiling like idiots until Doc clears his throat and hands Nicole a cast iron pan. 

“Don’t mind me,” he says, “just here to make sure there’s breakfast before Wynonna wakes up and kills us for food.” Nicole takes the pan and nods, opening the cooler and pulling out a carton of eggs.

“Do you like egg bakes?” Nicole asks Waverly, cracking the eggs into the pan and beating them with a fork. Waverly gets a little distracted by the smooth movements of Nicole’s wrist, but she nods. “Good, because that’s just about all I can make.” Nicole winks at her and dumps a bowl of chopped up veggies into the egg, mixing it a little before putting a lid on the pan and setting it down on a grill that she’d nestled into the hot coals. 

Nicole sits back on her heels and uses Waverly’s arm rest to push herself to her feet. She grabs another chair and sits beside Waverly, and they both watch each other pretend to not watch each other. 

Wynonna wakes up soon, and the eggs cook, and they eat. And they pack up, and Nicole gives Wynonna the keys, claiming she’s too tired to drive. Waverly scolds herself for wishing she didn’t have to navigate and could sit in back with Nicole, but she’d managed to find at least half a clue in Guerrero Negro that pointed them to a potential stopping place along the Pacific coast of Baja California Sur, so she pulls out a bunch of maps and they slowly start making their way through the desert. 

She looks back to check on Nicole and Doc, and the tall woman is awkwardly curled up on the seat, asleep and drooling on her own shoulder. Doc has taken his hat back, looking smug as he smokes, hand dangling out the window. 

“Really, Doc?” Waverly says with a playful glare. “You had to wait until she fell asleep to get your hat back?” She clicks her tongue at him and shakes her head. He just smiles around his cigarette and tips his hat to her. 

“Are we there yet?” Wynonna whines, taking her hands off the wheel and driving with her knees. “I’m bored.” 

“How did you ever find anything with your lack of patience?” Waverly laughs. 

“Luck of the draw,” Wynonna says. “Also pure fucking talent.” Waverly rolls her eyes. 

“Well, I’m afraid you’re going to have to get used to the tedious work that comes with _actual_ research and well thought out plans,” she says. “And can you please put your hands back on the wheel?” 

Wynonna swerves the car and Waverly grips the door. “Yes, I wouldn’t want to run into all these other cars,” Wynonna says, waving her hand at the empty desert. 

“What the hell?” Nicole mumbles from where she’s been shook awake. She rubs at her eyes and blinks blearily. 

Waverly presses her lips together to try and dampen down the smile that pops up because _how can someone be that cute_. 

“Waverly made me do it,” Wynonna defends quickly. Waverly hits Wynonna’s shoulder.

“Yeah, as if I’d believe that,” Nicole grumbles. “Don’t crash my truck, Earp.” She frowns and looks over at Doc. “Hey. The hat.” 

Doc shrugs. “You snooze, you may lose.” 

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Nicole says. But she sighs and leans forward, her forehead resting on the back of Waverly’s seat. “Whatever, good night.” 

“Um, Doc, do you mind if we switch seats?” Waverly asks. “I trust you can read a map?”

Wynonna slows the car to a stop and waits as they switch seats, Doc taking the map and adjusting their course. Waverly pokes Nicole’s shoulder.

“Hey,” she says gently, “you can lean on me if you want.” Nicole hesitates, and Waverly rolls her eyes. “I’m way more comfortable than a head rest, Nicole, don’t ruin your back because you’re _nervous_.” 

“I’m not nervous,” Nicole defends, but she still doesn’t make a move to lean on Waverly. Waverly huffs and grabs Nicole’s arm, pulling her until she’s resting her head on Waverly’s shoulder. “You’re kinda bony,” Nicole mumbles. 

“Rude,” Waverly laughs. Nicole laughs, a sharp breath through her nose, but then she’s shifting around and shifting Waverly until Waverly is angled in her seat and Nicole’s head rests above her breast bone. Waverly can smell the faint scent of Nicole’s shampoo, something vanilla, and soon Nicole’s breathing evens out. The gentle rocking of the truck starts to lull Waverly to sleep too, and her head droops forward, resting against the top of Nicole’s. The redhead starts to slip downward, so Waverly wraps her arms under Nicole’s, not sure if it’ll make a difference, but then she’s asleep and it doesn’t matter much. 

They’re both jerked awake by Wynonna making a sudden stop and tossing them forwards. Waverly’s arms drop to her sides and Nicole stretches her arms up, a small moan escaping her lips. Waverly looks around and is taken aback by the view of the ocean and she checks the time. They slept for over three hours.

“We here?” She asks, arching her back and twisting. 

“I fucking hope so,” Wynonna says, “because if I have to drive through any more desert I’m going to crash this car with no survivors.” She grabs the walkie-talkies from the trunk and hands them out. 

Waverly hops out of the truck and grabs her research bag, pulling out her notebook. “Okay, so look for anything that could have been a temporary structure, or tools used to clean the hull of a ship,” she instructs. Nicole climbs out of the truck and takes off her jacket, and Waverly tries to ignore how nice her forearms are in the rolled up plaid shirt she’s wearing. 

“Probably wood, right?” Nicole asks and Waverly isn’t sure what she’s talking about for a moment. “The structures?” 

“Uh, right,” Waverly says, “yeah, wooden structures. Or canvas. The desert should have preserved anything like that pretty well.” Nicole nods, giving Waverly a smile before taking off. 

“I’ll go this way,” Wynonna says, “since Haught took the ocean view.” Waverly nods and heads in the inland direction, eyes doing a methodical sweep as she takes measured steps. 

“ _Bacon Doughnut to Angel Pants, come in Angel Pants_ ,” Wynonna’s voice crackles through the radio. 

Waverly holds down the talk button. “Angel Pants reading you loud and clear, Bacon Doughnut,” Waverly answers. 

“ _Did you take the last peanut butter bar?_ ” 

“No, now can you get back to doing your job?” 

“ _Ten-four, Angel Pants._ ” 

Waverly clips the radio to her belt and keeps walking. She finds a few pieces of broken glass and a plastic bag that she picks up and shoves in her bag to throw out later.

“ _Red Haught to all, I think I’ve found something_ ,” Nicole’s voice comes over the radio. “ _Meet me back at the truck_.” 

Waverly almost drops her radio in her excitement to answer. “Roger that, Red Haught, on my way. Angel Pants out.” 

“ _Copy that. Bacon Doughnut out._ ” 

“ _Ten-four. Space Cowboy out_.” 

Waverly jogs back to the truck, eager to see what Nicole found. She retraces her steps easily and is the first one back. She takes a sip of water from one of their canteens and leans up against the nose of the truck. Nicole is next to come back, something in her hands. Her red hair is a bright beacon in the brown desert, and the smile she gives Waverly is a million watts. 

Waverly rushes over to her and Nicole holds out a dirty old book. Waverly takes it with reverence, carefully brushing dirt off it’s cover and running her fingers along the spine. 

“Found it in the clutches of some dead guy,” Nicole explains as they walk back to the truck. “He also had this.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a leather pouch. 

“What is it?” Waverly asks.

“I thought I’d let you do the honours,” Nicole says, and they share eager smiles. Waverly hops up on the hood of the truck and Nicole holds out the pouch. Waverly takes it and goes to open it, but then stops herself. 

“We should probably wait for Wynonna and Doc,” she says, but her fingers are itching to see what’s inside. 

“Probably,” Nicole shrugs. She leans up against the truck beside Waverly. “I gotta say, I never thought I’d be prying treasure from a skeleton’s hands.” Waverly laughs with her, and then Wynonna and Doc are coming into view, and Waverly hurries them over, waving her arms.

“We’ve got something!” Waverly says, and Wynonna presses her palms together and mouths “thank you” the sky. Waverly dangles the leather pouch out in front of her and Wynonna snatches at it. 

“Gimme,” Wynona whines when Waverly pulls it out of her reach. Doc lights a cigarette. 

“I’m opening it,” Waverly says, and Wynonna huffs, but waits while Waverly slowly opens the pouch. Her eyes go wide and she breathes, “holy shit.” Nicole leans over and her jaw drops open. 

“No way,” she whispers, “are those-?” 

“Uh huh,” Waverly says, breathless. 

Wynonna snatches the pouch away and looks inside. “Well twist my nipple and call me Daisy,” she laughs. “Black pearls.” 

Doc’s cigarette falls from his mouth. 

“The _Iqueue_ was said to carry black pearls as part of its cargo,” Waverly says. “Wynonna, these must have come from the _Iqueue_ , they just _must_ have.” 

“But why were they with the dead guy?” Nicole asks. “Why would they parcel off a portion of their treasure?” 

Waverly holds up the journal. “Guess we’re gonna find out.” 

-

Waverly is huddled under a blanket and reading the journal with the aid of a very fashionable headlamp. So far it’s a very boring account of daily activities; the dead man seemed to be involved in the silver mining in Ensenada, and there are pages full of records about that. 

“Hey,” Nicole says, and Waverly looks up to find the tall woman offering her a cup of water and a bag of trail mix. “I thought you could use a break.” Waverly switches off her headlamp and takes the offered food with a smile, greedily gulping back the water. Nicole sits down beside her and they share the trail mix in silence for a while. Waverly likes how Nicole tries to catch bits of the trail mix out of the air, a cheeky grin on her face whenever she succeeds. 

“How’s the reading coming?” Nicole asks after they’ve finished eating, brushing her hands off on her pants. 

“Boring,” Waverly sighs, “it’s all about silver mines right now.” Nicole holds out a hand and Waverly gives her the journal. “Support the spine,” she instructs, moving Nicole’s hand so the fragile binding won’t break. Nicole nods, and Waverly slowly pulls her hand back, her fingers trailing over the soft skin of Nicole’s hand. Nicole opens the journal to a random page and then laughs. “What?”

“I don’t speak Spanish,” she chuckles, “why did you let me pretend I could help?” 

Waverly’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, shoot,” she says, and Nicole carefully hands the book back, “I totally forgot it was in Spanish, I’ve just been reading it so intensely.” 

“I didn’t know you spoke Spanish,” Nicole says, tilting her head in the way that reminds Waverly of a curious puppy. 

“Yeah, I speak a bunch of languages,” Waverly says, shrugging it off. 

“How many?” Nicole asks, leaning her elbows on her knees. She’s looking at Waverly with her big brown eyes wide and attentive, and Waverly hopes the heat she feels in her cheeks isn’t visible.

“Well,” Waverly thinks for a second, “there’s English, French, Spanish, and I can read Italian but I’m not fluent. I know a little Mandarin and some Japanese. I can also read Latin, but no one speaks that anymore.” 

Nicole is slowly shaking her head back and forth, an awestruck smile on her face. “Amazing,” she says softly. “You are incredible.” 

Waverly looks down at the ground, suddenly shy. “It’s no big deal, lots of people are multi-lingual.” 

“You shouldn’t do that,” Nicole says, reaching out and putting her hand on Waverly’s knee, sending heatwaves through Waverly’s entire body. 

“Do what?”

“Act like your accomplishments don’t mean anything,” Nicole says, “because they mean something. They’re amazing, Waverly. _You_ are amazing.” Waverly looks up and meets Nicole’s eyes, and she feels like she’s been hit by a truck, because she’s never seen someone look at her so earnestly. It’s almost too much, but she can’t look away, and she can feel herself slowly leaning forward. She gets close enough to smell the faint hints of the trail mix on Nicole’s breath, and she hears Nicole’s breath hitch. Waverly leans forward, and there’s a small cracking noise, and Nicole is pulling back with a hiss.

“What’s wrong?” Waverly asks, and she immediately feels dread creeping up the back of her neck with a side of humiliation. “Did I do something wrong?”

Nicole shakes her head, rubbing at her forehead. “No, no,” she insists, “you just uh, bumped me a little hard with that headlamp.” Waverly blushes and this time she’s sure Nicole can see how red her cheeks are. 

“Oh, fiddlesticks,” she mumbles, burying her face in her hands. “I’m sorry.” 

Nicole squeezes her knee before letting go. “It’s fine, Waves,” she reassures her, “I’ve always been told I have a hard head.” Waverly peeks at her through her fingers and Nicole gives her a dimpled smile. 

“I’m so embarrassed,” Waverly moans, shaking her head. 

“Hey, it’s all good,” Nicole says. “I’m gonna go grab some more water, would you like some?” 

Waverly lowers her hands and nods. Nicole stands up and walks over to the water jug, and Waverly really hopes the ground will open up and swallow her whole so she doesn’t have to deal with this embarrassment. Nicole comes back and gives her the water. 

“Again, I’m so sorry about the-the bumping,” Waverly says.

“Oh, did you think this was my first time getting bumped in the face by a headlamp when a pretty girl tried to kiss me?” Nicole teases her, smiling over the rim of her cup. 

“I-I wasn’t trying to _kiss_ you,” Waverly stutters, trying to regain some of her dignity. 

“Riiight, my bad,” Nicole laughs, holding up her hands in mock surrender. “It’s just that _usually_ when two people’s faces are that close, the intention is a bit of lip-locking.” 

“Well, that wasn’t _my_ intention,” Waverly says, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Nicole nods, looking into her cup and pursing her lips. “Okay, Waverly.”

“I don’t want to kiss you,” Waverly says again. “It was-you had something on your face. I don’t want to kiss you.” _Yes you do, you big fat liar._

Nicole looks up and Waverly’s throat tightens at the look in her eyes. “Okay, Waverly. You don’t want to kiss me. I get it.” Nicole’s jaw is tight and she works it side to side for a moment before standing up and moving to walk away. 

“Hey, where are you going?” Waverly asks. 

Nicole shrugs, not looking at Waverly. “I’m tired. And I don’t want to disturb you.” She lifts a hand in farewell and walks over to the fire where Wynonna and Doc are drinking. Waverly watches her go with a knot in her throat. She tries to swallow it and turns her headlamp back on, trying to focus on the journal in her hands. But the words swim before her eyes and she slams it shut in frustration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bonus early update because Halloween weekend makes me happy :) all the lovely comments and the kudos make me so happy, I hope you're all enjoying this story as much as I am! Have a safe and fun Halloween weekend everyone!
> 
> PS: someone in the comments (you know who you are) put the way I'm writing Wayhaught development into great words: there's a huge adrenaline that comes with traveling, where every friendship or other relationship feels a hundred times more intense because there's this time limit on it, and you're in such close quarters all the time. I've sort of based it off my own experiences with that phenomenon.


	5. around against the red camp light

Nicole carries back two pitchers of beer to the table where the rest of her companions are waiting. Villa Morelos is small, but the one roadside bar (literally a bar with a few tables by the road) has cold beer, and they were all tired of sitting out in the desert. 

“So what have you been able to figure out from the book?” Wynonna is asking Waverly, whose eyes linger on Nicole before she blinks and looks down at the journal on the table. Nicole puts the pitchers down and starts pouring while Waverly talks. 

“Well, not a whole lot,” Waverly starts, “it’s almost all just records of mines and a few little personal anecdotes. This guy was definitely onboard with the treasure for a stretch of time, but I’m not sure how long or why he was found dead in the desert.” 

“Anything about where they were headed?” Wynonna prompts, taking a long drink of her beer. “Or what ship they were on with the treasure so we can try and find docking records?” 

Waverly shakes her head. “Nothing. There are some really poorly drawn star charts in the back, but they don’t make any sense.” 

Wynonna grabs the journal and rifles through it, ignoring Waverly’s protests and warnings to be careful. She stops when she reaches the star charts and then shows them to Doc, who gently takes the book and traces his fingers over the old ink. 

“Virgo,” he says, “and Libra.” 

“Yeah, but they wouldn’t have seen those constellations in this position from here,” Waverly says, and Nicole can hear the frustration in her voice. “The whole journal is pretty much useless. Why have all these records if you’re just going to go off on a lam and then-then die in the desert with these stupid star charts?”

“Maybe they weren’t writing from here,” Nicole suggests. Three pairs of eyes whip to her and she shrugs. “I mean, usually the simplest solution _is_ the answer, right?” 

Waverly takes the book from Doc and rotates it, but then she’s pushing her chair back in an uncharacteristic show of frustration and storming off. The other three watch her go, all shocked at the younger Earp’s behaviour. Nicole itches to stand up and follow her, but she’s still feeling the mortification over being told over and over again that Waverly doesn’t want to kiss her, so she tightens her grip on her glass and plants her feet. 

“I’ll be right back,” Wynonna sighs, following her sister. 

Doc leans back in his seat and lights a cigarette. Nicole takes a drink. 

“Nothing more stubborn than an Earp,” Doc comments as they watch the two sisters bicker back and forth. 

“Tell me about it,” Nicole mumbles. 

“I don’t believe Waverly is used to not being able to solve a riddle,” Doc says, and Nicole watches as Wynonna holds Waverly by the shoulders and talks to her in a calm manner. Waverly nods, but her body is still tense. 

“She shouldn’t have to do all this alone,” Nicole mutters. “I don’t think I’ve seen Wynonna even offer to help.” 

Doc’s eyebrows lift at the darker tone of Nicole’s voice. “Wynonna is not inclined to research,” he says. “You’d be more likely to catch a weasel asleep than to find that woman with her nose anywhere near a book.” 

Nicole looks over at him. “Do you speak like that on purpose?” 

“Like what?”

“Like some old-timey cowboy,” Nicole says. 

Doc chuckles and shrugs his shoulders, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “Miss Haught, I assure you, this is just the fashion in which I speak.” Nicole doesn’t believe it for a second but Wynonna comes back and plops down in her chair. Doc and Nicole look at her expectantly, but Wynonna just grabs her drink and chugs back half the glass.

She lets out a satisfied breath and looks at the two people staring at her. “What?”

“Is Waverly quite alright?” Doc asks.

“Oh,” Wynonna says, somehow surprised that they’re wondering. “Yeah. She’s fine. Just needs to cool off.” 

Nicole looks over at where Waverly is toeing the dirt in front of her. Again, she feels the need to help the younger woman pull at her, like there’s a string attached to her navel with the other end tied to Waverly, tugging sharply each time there’s no smile on her face. 

“Anything we can do?” Nicole asks, missing the look Wynonna gives her because she’s too busy staring at Waverly. 

“I don’t know,” Wynonna says slowly, “just don’t be an idiot? That usually makes people feel better.” 

Nicole nods, tapping her fingers against the cool glass in her hands. They sit in silence as they wait for Waverly to come back, and Nicole thumbs carefully through the journal. She looks at the star charts again even though she doesn’t really know how to read any astrological charts. 

“So why aren’t these useful?” She asks Doc, who seems to have at least a basic knowledge of the stars. 

“They don’t match the night sky that this man would have been familiar with seeing,” Doc explains. “If he was in the southern hemisphere, then they would make sense. But we know the treasure was never taken into the southern hemisphere.” 

Nicole frowns. “Maybe I’ll be labelled a heretic for saying so, as a new member to this chase, but isn’t it possible that the story you’ve been told is wrong?” 

“Earps do have a history of drinking,” Wynonna says as she empties her glass. “It’s possible not every fact was correct. But Lyle’s journal also said they were taking it to the Caribbean.” 

“Wasn’t the Caribbean under substantial Spanish control?” Nicole asks. Wynonna shrugs and looks to Doc, who also can’t offer an answer. “Seriously? Isn’t this your _job_?” 

“Why do you think I brought the Wonder Kid?” Wynonna shoots back defensively, jerking her thumb in Waverly’s direction. Nicole sighs, standing up from the table and shaking her head at Wynonna. She swipes the journal and goes over to where Waverly has leaned up against the truck, her arms crossed and her brow creased. 

“Your sister is kind of useless,” Nicole says with a wry grin, moving to lean up beside Waverly. Waverly ignores her and Nicole clears her throat, holding out the journal. “Mind if I pick your brain for a second?” Waverly keeps ignoring her and Nicole shrugs, flipping the book around in her hands. “Okay, then I hope you don’t mind me thinking out loud.” 

Waverly’s eyes flit over to her, quickly going back to staring in front of her when she catches Nicole’s eyes on her. 

“So you guys have been told the plan was to take the treasure into the Caribbean, right?” Nicole pauses to see if Waverly’s going to break her silence, but there’s no answer so she keeps going. “Well, I’m pretty sure a reasonable amount of the Caribbean was under Spanish colonial rule at the time. And maybe it’s just me, but if _I_ was stealing a bunch of valuable treasure from _Spanish_ mutineers that had stolen it from the _Spanish_ crown, I wouldn’t be too eager to go waltzing right into _Spanish_ territory.” Nicole chances a glance at Waverly, who is staring at her with an indecipherable expression. “Um, and if there are maps that point to the possibility that they weren’t necessarily in the northern hemisphere, maybe it’s just easiest to assume that they weren’t?” 

Nicole can practically see the gear turning in Waverly’s head as she comes up with a hundred different possibilities. Nicole puts the journal on the hood of the truck and gives Waverly a small smile. 

“Just a thought,” she says, walking back to the table and leaving Waverly alone by the truck again. She looks over her shoulder and feels a swell of pride when she sees Waverly picking up the journal and start to read it. Wynonna and Doc give her impressed nods when she sits back down, and Nicole takes a satisfied sip of her beer. 

Waverly comes back a half an hour and two more pitchers later and slams her notebook down on the table, determination in her eyes.

“We’re going south.” 

-

Nicole leans her elbow on the open windowsill as she drives along the sunny highway. She’s thankful for the lack of other cars, because it means she can keep sneaking sideways glances at Waverly in the passenger seat. The scarlet tint of her aviators casts Waverly in a pleasing light, her long hair whipping in the wind. The wind is roaring in her ears, and Nicole can barely hear the pop music that Waverly’s selected blasting through the radio. 

Waverly looks over at her and smiles, the sunlight dancing off the metal frames of her round sunglasses, and Nicole gets the vague feeling she might have stepped into a music video or heaven. Wynonna had refused to put the top on the truck, and so Nicole doesn’t hear what Waverly says.

“What?” Nicole shouts over the din of the wind and the music, leaning over. 

Waverly leans in close and her hair tickles where it touches Nicole’s face and neck. “Do you need to take a break?” She says, her lips almost touching Nicole’s ear. Nicole shakes her head, leaning back to prop her elbow up on the window again. 

“I need to pee!” Wynonna yells from the backseat into Nicole’s ear, a lot less pleasing that Waverly and a thousand percent too jarring. Nicole jumps and swerves a little. She flips Wynonna off over her shoulder and pulls over on the shoulder of the road. The truck kicks up some dust as she comes to a stop, and Wynonna hops out of the back. Waverly turns the volume down on the radio. 

“Are you sure you don’t need a break?” Waverly asks Nicole again. “You’ve been driving for almost four hours straight. I can drive for a bit.” 

“I’m fine, I promise,” Nicole says. She’d made the elective decision to stop being immature about the whole “I don’t want to kiss you” fiasco, and she thinks Waverly has too, because they’ve been back to almost normal. Whatever normal is for a friendship that’s barely two weeks old and born in the middle of a firefight. 

“Okay,” Waverly draws out, not sounding entirely convinced. She grabs the water bottle from the console between them and Nicole tightens her grip on the steering wheel as she tries really hard not to watch the muscles in Waverly’s neck work as she drinks. She distracts herself by looking back at Doc, who fell asleep across the back bench almost an hour and seems to still be totally zonked, hat over his face. 

Waverly’s head is bobbing along to the music as they wait for Wynonna to come back. “Do you like this song?” Nicole asks. 

“I don’t really know it,” Waverly says with a shrug. “But it has a cool beat.” Nicole nods, not sure she actually agrees but happy to pretend if it’ll keep Waverly happy. She taps her toe inside her shoe, keeping time. 

Wynonna comes back then, climbing into the truck and lifting Doc’s feet, putting them down carefully in her lap. Nicole starts the engine again, pulling back onto the road and Waverly turns the music back up. 

-

They set up camp a few miles from the main highway, Doc striking up the fire. They eat the last of their non-perishables, and Nicole is glad they’re due to hit a town soon because there’s only so much jerky a person can eat without feeling like they’ve developed a hard rock in their stomach. 

She and Wynonna are engaged in a sober (for Nicole) game of quarters while Doc reads a paperback he’d had tucked away in his bag the whole time but not opened until now. Waverly is in her tent on her phone, having mumbled something about arranging transportation over water. 

Wynonna has just missed again when Waverly emerges, looking riled up. She stomps over and swipes the bottle of whiskey from Wynonna’s hands, taking a long drink. Nicole watches in shock and can’t help but be a little impressed. 

“Uh, hey there baby girl,” Wynonna says, trying to snatch the bottle back. Waverly holds it out of her reach and takes another drink. “Okay, slow down, that’s my last bottle!” Wynonna stands up and grabs the bottle, yanking it from Waverly’s hands. “Did you not get us that boat?”

“I got the damn boat. And I broke up with Champ,” Waverly says, and Wynonna hands the bottle back over. “He called me and-and asked when I was coming home for break.” She laughs, incredulous. “I reminded him for the _millionth_ time that I wasn’t coming home, and he just…he got so mad, like a child being told they couldn’t play with a toy!” Nicole watches her take another sip, her face scrunching up at the taste briefly. 

“Wait, you were dating Champ Hardy?” Wynonna says as it dawns on her. “Like, the same Champ you were dating when you were seventeen?” Waverly nods. “Keep the bottle.” Wynonna stands and excuses herself claiming exhaustion, but Nicole and Waverly sharing a knowing look when Wynonna leaves her tent partially unzipped. They wait, and sure enough, Doc casually follows her after a minute. Waverly grimaces and drinks more. She holds it out to Nicole.

“Don’t act like you aren’t going to need some of this with _that_ going on,” Waverly says, nodding her head at Wynonna’s tent. 

“God, you’re right,” Nicole says, taking a careful sip of the whiskey. She hisses at the burn and Waverly hides a giggle behind her hand. “Okay, _Earp_ , just because your family seems born with the ability to drink this like it’s water, that doesn’t mean you get to mock us mere mortals.” She drinks a little more before handing it back to Waverly. 

“Oh come on, this isn’t even that bad,” Waverly laughs. 

Nicole takes a deep breath, shaking her head. “You’re way stronger than me.” 

Waverly shrugs, a cocky smirk on her face. “No doubt about that.” 

“Are you suggesting what I think you are?” Nicole asks, false offence in her voice. Waverly shrugs again, taking a swig of the whiskey. Nicole laughs. “Okay then, arm wrestle. Right here, right now.” 

“You’re on,” Waverly says, and they arrange themselves, lying on their stomachs and facing each other. Nicole props her arm up and waits for Waverly to grasp her hand. She tries not to get distracted by how easily their hands fit together, or how soft and strong Waverly’s hand is. They lock eyes and match grins, Waverly’s face quickly falling into a fake look of total concentration, her brow furrowed and eyes narrowed. Nicole tries to imitate it, but Waverly looks so ridiculously adorable that she can hardly keep the affectionate smile off her lips. 

“Go!” Waverly says, and Nicole tenses against the push of Waverly’s arm. They struggle against each other, hands gripping tightly, and Nicole can’t help but feel a little satisfied knowing that the muscles she’s spent more time than she’d like to admit leering at are as strong as they look.

“Small but mighty,” Nicole teases Waverly, who sticks her tongue out and pushes on Nicole’s arm a little harder than before. Nicole grits her teeth and pushes back. 

“I guess those noodley arms of yours are good for more than just reaching the top shelf,” Waverly shoots back. 

Nicole laughs. “Oh please, like you haven’t noticed the gun show I’ve got going on.” 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Gumby,” Waverly says. Nicole laughs again at the trash talk, and she uses her height to press not just to the side but down on Waverly’s arm. 

“If you wanted to hold my hand, you could have just asked,” Nicole says, and she doesn’t miss the blush on Waverly’s cheeks. 

“This is a lot of talk coming from the girl getting stalemated by someone half her size,” Waverly grunts against the pressure from Nicole’s arm. Nicole grins, readying herself to make the final push, but then Waverly’s face is a lot closer and Nicole’s breath is stolen by the wind. Waverly’s breath smells like whiskey, and their noses bump together and Nicole’s grip on Waverly’s hand loosens as her eyelids flutter. 

And then her arm is slammed into the dirt and Waverly is scrambling to her feet with a triumphant whoop. Nicole stares at her arm, still trying to find her bearings. She looks up at Waverly and shakes her head. 

“You play dirty,” Nicole says, rolling onto her back in defeat. Waverly kneels beside her and pats her cheek. 

“You’ve still got a lot to learn about me, Nicole Haught,” she says, her smile soft. Nicole smiles back.

“Oh yeah?” 

Waverly nods, and then presses a quick as lightning kiss to Nicole’s cheek. “Yeah.” She gets to her feet and offers Nicole a hand. The redhead shakes off the daze Waverly put her in and takes her hand, standing up and brushing the dirt off her ass. 

“I look forward to it,” Nicole says and they lock eyes. 

“I should go to bed,” Waverly says, but she doesn’t move. 

“Okay.” They stay still and Nicole’s heart runs a marathon in her chest. Nicole realizes they’re still holding hands, and she rubs her thumb across the back of Waverly’s knuckles. 

“You’re holding my hand,” Waverly says. 

“Is that okay?” 

Waverly squeezes her hand and smiles. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry about your break-up,” Nicole says. 

“No you’re not,” Waverly says with a small laugh, “but thank you.” Nicole laughs, and Waverly slips her hand from Nicole’s. “I’m going to go to bed now.” 

“Alright,” Nicole says, already missing the feeling of Waverly’s hand in hers. 

“Have a good sleep,” Waverly says. 

“You too,” Nicole says with a smile. Waverly walks backwards, her eyes still locked with Nicole’s. She almost trips over a rock, and then she’s turning and rushing to climb into her tent. Nicole shakes her head after Waverly zips up the tent flap, unable to wipe the smile off her face at just how unfairly _cute_ Waverly Earp is.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one to propel our adventurers forward! The love from you all keeps me going, so glad that people are enjoying this as much as I am :) hope everyone's Halloween was righteous, you all deserve it.


	6. so woman-like into the wave

Cabo Pulmo is nice. They take long showers in the hotel, they lie on the beach and Nicole thinks she’s found a weird combination of heaven and hell when Waverly stretches out on a towel and Nicole sees far more skin than she could have ever prepared herself for. 

There’s a moment on the second day where Nicole is pretty sure she catches Waverly checking her out when Wynonna dumps a bucket of water over her head, her thin t-shirt sticking to her body. But then Waverly is hiding her eyes behind sunglasses and Nicole is chasing Wynonna into the surf. 

Later that night, they gather in Waverly and Wynonna’s room (although it’s no secret that Wynonna is just keeping her stuff in there while she spends the nights with Doc) to watch a movie. Doc and Wynonna are busy bickering over what movie to order, and Nicole is perched awkwardly on the edge of the bed, her freshly washed hair dripping down the back of her shirt. Waverly comes out of the bathroom, rubbing her hair dry with a fluffy hotel towel. She rolls her eyes at her sister and Doc, sitting up against the headboard. 

“Nicole?” 

Nicole turns at the sound of Waverly’s voice, trying desperately to not notice the way Waverly’s tiny pyjama shorts make her tan legs go on for miles. “Yeah?” 

“Could you braid my hair for me?” Waverly asks. “You always have such a nice french braid.” Nicole nods, and Waverly gestures her over, clicking her tongue at Nicole when she tries to reach out from beside Waverly to start the braid. “Stop being weird,” Waverly scolds, pushing Nicole until she’s sitting up against the headboard. Waverly pushes her legs apart and Nicole swallows hard, digging her nails into her palms when Waverly sits between her legs and looks at her over her shoulder. “Okay?”

Nicole nods, not trusting her voice right now, and she starts sectioning Waverly’s hair. Waverly must have forgone the generic hotel shampoo in favour of her own, because it smells fresh and floral, not coconutty like the tiny bottle Nicole had used. 

“Okay, which would you guys rather watch?” Wynonna says, holding her hand to Doc’s mouth. “ _National Treasure_ or,” she pretends to gag at the next title, “ _Marley and Me_?” Nicole can’t help the laugh that barks out of her mouth, and Doc narrows his eyes at her. 

“They have _Night at the Museum_ ,” Waverly says, “I want to watch that.” 

“But Waves, Nick Cage!” Wynonna pleads. “‘Bees!’” She quotes, making a grotesque face, and Waverly shakes her head, causing Nicole’s fingers to stutter over her movements. 

“That’s not even from that movie!” Waverly protests. 

“ _Marley and Me_ is a family classic,” Doc pipes up. 

“No one here needs to see you cry, Doc,” Wynonna huffs. Nicole can’t help but agree, and Doc gives her a very betrayed look. 

“I think we should leave it to Nicole to break the tie,” Waverly says, putting her hand on Nicole’s thigh and sending a shiver right through Nicole’s spine. 

“Um, I really don’t care,” Nicole says, unwilling to get between the Earp sisters when they’re arguing. 

“Come on, Haught, just pick one,” Wynonna says, impatient as ever. Waverly’s fingers trace a pattern on her thigh, the touches light through the fabric of her thin joggers, but still electric. 

“If it’s between Nick Cage and _literally_ anyone else, I’d have to go with _Night at the Museum_ ,” Nicole says, cringing when Wynonna gives her the finger and a death glare. Waverly squeezes her leg and Nicole’s heart kicks her ribs. She focuses back on the braid, her fingers scraping Waverly’s scalp lightly as she finishes the top part of the braid. 

Wynonna orders the movie and turns off the lights, the TV screen illuminating the room in a dull glow. Nicole finishes the braid and drops her hands to her side, waiting for Waverly to move. And she does move, except she moves backwards and rest her back on Nicole’s chest, her head resting against Nicole’s shoulder. 

“Waves?” Nicole whispers, looking over at where Wynonna is paying them no attention, busy with a bag of chips. Waverly tilts her head back and looks up at Nicole, and Nicole forgets how to breathe for a second. “What, uh, what are you doing?”

“I’m sitting,” Waverly says. Nicole nods, pressing her lips together.

“Right,” she says. Waverly looks back to the TV, grabbing Nicole’s hands and pulling her arms around her waist, lacing their fingers together to rest on Waverly’s stomach through her silky tank top. 

Nicole doesn’t catch any of the movie. The end credits roll and she can’t seem to remember any of the plot, instead still focused on regulating her breathing and not moving at all. Wynonnais passed out on the other bed, her head in Doc’s lap. Doc looks over at Nicole and Waverly, a smirk forming under his moustache. 

“Looks like we are both in quite a predicament,” he says, brushing a strand of Wynonna’s hair out of her face. Nicole frowns, looking down at Waverly and finding her dead asleep. Doc gently slides out from under Wynonna and scoops her up into his arms, giving Nicole a parting nod and going through the adjoining door. 

“What am I going to do with you,” Nicole sighs, trying to see if she can find a way to sneak out without waking Waverly. But every movement seems too big, and she eventually gives up. She gently shakes Waverly’s shoulder. “Waverly, wake up.” 

The sleeping girl grumbles, turning and snuggling into Nicole’s neck. Nicole looks to the ceiling for some sort of help, but of course none comes and she shakes Waverly a little more firmly. 

“What?” Waverly mumbles, waking up and squinting her eyes at Nicole, the bright glare of the TV screen highlighting the angles of her face. 

“You fell asleep,” Nicole says. “I should head out, let you sleep properly.” Nicole moves to stand up, but Waverly holds her down, tightening her grip on Nicole’s hands. 

“Stay?” She asks. She climbs over Nicole’s left leg and crawls under the blankets, pulling on Nicole’s hand until the taller woman is lying down under the blankets behind her. “You’re warm.” Waverly scoots backwards until their bodies are flush, and she positions Nicole’s arm over her waist. Her bum wiggles briefly again Nicole’s lower stomach as she gets settled and Nicole almost chokes on her own spit. She reaches blindly for the remote and turns off the TV, casting the room in darkness, just the soft glow from the moon cutting through the window. 

Waverly sighs, content, and Nicole sends up a quick prayer for sleep to come quickly, because being awake and having Waverly pressed up against her is the sweetest torture. 

“Stop thinking so hard,” Waverly mutters, and Nicole laughs, short and breathless. She nods, and lets herself give in to the temptation of tightening her arm around Waverly’s waist and nuzzling her nose into the back of Waverly’s head. She hears Waverly mumble, “good,” and then her eyes are closing and she drifts into a dreamless sleep. 

-

Nicole wakes up slowly, her mouth full of hair. She leans back, eyes squinting against the sunlight, trying to get the hair out of her mouth. She feels too hot and a little sweaty. She pulls her arm out from under Waverly and brushes the hair from her lips. Kicking off the duvet, Nicole sighs thankfully as the cool air hits her legs where her joggers had ridden up. 

“No,” Waverly groans, “don’t get up.” Nicole lifts her head and looks at Waverly’s face, scrunched up against the morning light. 

“I’m boiling,” Nicole says. Waverly huffs, kicking the blankets to the end of the bed. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she mumbles, turning and curling into Nicole’s side. Nicole smiles, her arm curling around Waverly’s back. “Sleep well?” 

Nicole nods. “Really well.” 

“Me too.”

They lie together for a while, and Nicole falls under the trance of the hypnotizing patterns Waverly draws on her bare arm. 

“You know, people usually have some sort of discussion before they sleep together,” Nicole says into Waverly’s hair. “Or at least kiss a little bit.” 

“Don’t push your luck,” Waverly says, pinching the skin of her arm lightly. 

“Oh, I forgot, you ‘don’t want to kiss me’,” Nicole teases, but the words still bite at her as they pass her lips, and the smile on her face feels tight.

Waverly props herself up on her elbow, giving Nicole apologetic eyes. “I shouldn’t have ever said that,” Waverly admits, cupping Nicole’s jaw and stroking her cheekbone with her thumb. “I-you-this is a lot all at once,” she sighs. “It’s new. Kinda fast. A little scary.” 

“I scare you?” Nicole asks, her eyebrows pulling together and up, and she knows her eyes are giving away the amount of affection that’s coursing through her heart. 

“Yes,” Waverly sighs, “yes you do. Because I think about finding the treasure, and I think about kissing you and god, Nicole, that treasure pales in comparison.” 

Nicole smiles. “Smooth-talker.” 

Waverly laughs, leaning down and pressing their foreheads together. Nicole takes a sharp breath through her nose and closes her eyes. There’s the lightest brush of Waverly’s lips on hers, and then the contact is lost. Nicole cracks her eyes open and pouts. 

“We both have morning breath,” Waverly says, and Nicole thinks it might be a bit of a cop-out answer, because she can read Waverly’s nervous body language like an open book. But Nicole nods. 

“I didn’t want to say anything,” Nicole says, smiling so Waverly knows she’s joking, “but yeah, your breath is just, wow, so unbearable.” Waverly rolls her eyes and sits up. 

“You’re unbearable,” she says, and Nicole laughs. She sits up and hugs Waverly from behind, their cheeks pressed together. Waverly relaxes in her arms and lets Nicole pull her back down to the mattress. 

-

Wynonna doesn’t know what she was expecting Waverly’s contact to be like, but it definitely wasn’t the _very_ attractive and stoic ex-military man that she got. 

He’d introduced himself with a straight face and a firm handshake as Deputy Marshal Xavier Dolls. He helped them carry their equipment onto the big ass boat he’d brought, and Wynonna didn’t miss the pissing contest between him and Doc to see who could carry more. 

“They should just whip ‘em out on the table and measure,” Waverly scoffs as the two men come up the ramp with their arms laden. Wynonna hums, enjoying the way Dolls’ muscles move under his t-shirt when he sets down his load of gear. 

Nicole walks by with a large box of Waverly’s research. “Waves, where do you want this?” She asks, and Waverly bounces over to her, leaving Wynonna to objectify the two men in peace. 

“Miss Earp, is there anything else you need brought aboard?” Dolls asks, and Wynonna blinks out of her trance and drags her eyes up his body. 

“Please, Miss Earp is my sister,” she says with a bat of her eyelashes. 

“Er,” Dolls clears his throat, “well, the question still stands.” 

Wynonna looks around and shrugs. “If there’s nothing left, then you’ve probably got it all.” She pushes off the rail she’s leaning on and brushes by Dolls. She mouths “oh my god” at Waverly, who rolls her eyes and shakes her head at Wynonna. 

“Can you not start a ridiculous love triangle when we’re about to be stuck at sea?” Waverly asks, and Wynonna looks over at where Doc is sulking and smoking. 

“Oh please, I’m not going to _start_ anything,” Wynonna says, “but I’m not going to _not_ flirt with and ogle the hot piece you called up.” Waverly sighs, but she doesn’t say anything else. 

“Do you think the Deputy Marshal has ever heard of smiling?” Nicole asks, and the two Earps snort. 

“I’m ninety percent sure he’s actually a robot,” Waverly says, leaning into Nicole. “I’ve known him for three years and he’s smiled _maybe_ twice.” Nicole lets out a low whistle.

“You’ve known him for three years and this is the first time you’re introducing us?” Wynonna says, affronted.

“Are you forgetting that I hadn’t heard from you for _five_ years before now?” Waverly shoots back, crossing her arms. 

“Ah, right,” Wynonna relents, “that.” 

“Yeah,” Waverly chides. They fall into silence and then Dolls is ordering them all about for the departure procedures. They untie ropes and watch as Dolls maneuvers them out of the port and into the open sea. The pace picks up and Wynonna drags Waverly up to the front of the boat - the bow - and grins mischievously. 

“I’m queen of the world!” Wynonna shouts into the wind, and Waverly bursts into laughter. 

“You’re an idiot!” She says, and Wynonna hops up, sitting on the railing. 

“Come on, Waves,” she urges, “did you ever think you’d be here?”

“On a boat in the Pacific, on my way to an undetermined location somewhere past the equator?” Waverly jokes, and Wynonna kicks her lightly.

“No,” she says, “just…out. We got out.” Wynonna smiles into the breeze, salt water spraying up in a mist. Waverly leans against the railing beside her sister and they lean together. 

“No, Wynonna,” Waverly says softly, “I didn’t.” They share smiles, and Wynonna wraps an arm around Waverly’s shoulders.

“If only they could see us now, eh?” 

Waverly nods, leaning into Wynonna’s side with a happy sigh. “If only.”

-

Nicole considers herself a pretty friendly person. She likes to chat with people and get to know them, and she’s always been told she’s an easy person to get along with. It’s something she prides herself on. 

But she can’t quite bring herself to _like_ Deputy Marshal Dolls. And she’s pretty sure the feeling is mutual. 

Firstly, the man seems incapable of smiling or laughing, or even understanding the most basic humour. 

Secondly, Nicole accidentally walked into the wrong room and saw Dolls with an open computer screen and got threatened with _treason_. 

What the fuck?

So it’s barely been three hours at sea and she’s already elected to hide out in the sleeping cabin where she can live her life without threat of death. Still not her worst day. 

The cabin bunks are short, the end wall forcing Nicole to bend her legs and back to fit. She can’t sit up in it either, bumping her head when she tries, so she ends up sitting on the floor and leaning her back against the bed. Her head is full of the memory of Waverly’s body pressed against hers, legs tangled and Waverly’s breath on her neck as they waited out the morning. Her lips turn up into a dopey smile when she thinks of how Waverly’s braid hung down as the small woman left the barest of kisses on Nicole’s lips. 

“Why are you smiling like that?” Wynonna’s voice breaks through Nicole’s reverie. Nicole looks over at where the older Earp is being held up by Waverly, her face pale and a little green. 

“Why does your face look like that?” Nicole retorts. Waverly helps Wynonna maneuver onto one of the beds, and Wynonna rolls onto her side with a groan. 

“She’s sea-sick,” Waverly explains, failing to hide an amused smirk. Nicole laughs, quickly covering it with a cough when Wynonna flips her off. 

“I just had a bad breakfast burrito,” Wynonna tries to defend herself, moaning when the boat tilts over a wave. 

“We didn’t eat breakfast burritos,” Nicole counters. 

“Oh my god, what is this, an interrogation?” Wynonna exclaims. “Damn, quit with the Spanish Inquisition and leave me here to die in peace!” Nicole wants to protest, but then Waverly is handing Wynonna a bucket and they both decide it’s better not to be around when the shit hits the fan. 

Nicole follows Waverly on deck, the sun bright as it bounces off the ocean. They sit on a few boxes labelled ‘CLASSIFIED’ in bright red letters, and Nicole is sure to let her legs bounce off them with a little more force than necessary. Doc is leaning over the side railing near the bow, smoking with his hat pulled low over his eyes, but Nicole doesn’t miss the way he sends glares towards the bridge where Dolls is piloting the boat. 

“I feel bad for him,” Waverly says with a nod to Doc. Nicole hums her agreement, but she can’t help but think that if you’re going to love someone like Wynonna Earp, you should be prepared to get your heart broken. They lapse into silence and Waverly’s hand covers Nicole’s where it rests between them. Nicole turns her hand over and they weave their fingers together. 

“So when are you going to kiss me properly?” Nicole asks with a playful smile. Waverly laughs and bumps their shoulders together.

“Maybe you need to learn a little something about humility and patience,” she says, and Nicole loves the way the sun reflects off Waverly’s hair as it flows gently in the ocean breeze. 

“Well, when I see something I like,” Nicole says, leaning in close so her breath ghosts over the shell of Waverly’s ear, “I don’t wanna wait.” She feels Waverly shudder against her and she feels daring, pressing the lightest kiss behind Waverly’s ear. Waverly’s grip on her hand tightens, and Nicole nuzzles her nose into Waverly’s hair. 

“You’re trouble, Nicole Haught,” Waverly mumbles, turning her head and brushing the ends of their noses together. Nicole grins, tilting her chin forward. 

“Maybe you’re my solution, Waverly Earp,” Nicole says, soft as the hand in hers, and Waverly smiles, and Nicole’s breath hitches. Waverly’s free hand reaches up and her fingers rest at the hinge of Nicole’s jaw, pressing forward, and Nicole’s heart is pounding in her ears and her chest and her entire body is thrumming with anticipation. Waverly’s lips part slightly, and Nicole’s jaw goes slack, waiting for the next move. She watches as Waverly closes her eyes, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Then Waverly is tilting her head up and their lips are slotting together, and Nicole loses all ability to think. 

Because Waverly’s lips are _soft_ and they taste like a fruity chapstick that Nicole thinks might be strawberry, and the hand at her jaw is guiding her into the kiss, lips moving slowly and carefully. And then suddenly it _isn’t_ careful, and Nicole can barely catch her breath as Waverly pulls back for a split second and then reattaches their lips with the tiniest of moans, her tongue sliding past Nicole’s lips and running across the back of Nicole’s teeth, and Nicole presses forward, her hand coming up to grip Waverly’s forearm. She sucks lightly on Waverly’s tongue, experimenting with a light nip to her bottom lip, soothing it with her own tongue. She can hear their breathing grow more shallow, and Waverly’s fingers move to tug at her braided hair. 

Nicole pulls back and rests their foreheads together, trying to catch her breath. Waverly seems to be in the same predicament, and they both laugh through their heavy breaths. 

“We are _so_ doing that again,” Waverly exhales. Nicole nods fervently, stroking her thumb over the soft skin of Waverly’s arm. 

A horn sounds and they both jump apart, looking around and seeing Dolls standing at the window of the bridge. He holds up a microphone and his voice crackles through a loudspeaker.   


“No making out on deck,” he says, straight-faced and monotone. Waverly rolls her eyes and Nicole groans.

“If you can’t find me one day, just assume that the Deputy Marshal has thrown me overboard,” Nicole says to Waverly, her face very serious. Waverly just laughs and tries to kiss the frown from Nicole’s lips. 

“What did you do,” Waverly says when Nicole keeps her lips still, “did you see him naked or something?” 

Nicole shakes her head. “Worse. I walked in on him with his precious _documents_ out,” she explains. “He threatened me with treason.” 

“Poor baby,” Waverly coos, stroking Nicole’s cheek and kissing her again. Nicole responds this time, their lips sliding against each other and Waverly’s hand gentle against her cheek. Dolls sounds the horn again, and Nicole laughs when Waverly actually _growls._

“Down, girl,” she teases. Waverly pushes her shoulder and hops off the boxes they’re perched on, stomping up to the bridge. Nicole watches as she pushes the door open and disappears inside, smiling like a dope at the thought of tiny Waverly going toe-to-toe with Dolls. 

And then the smile drops and she follows Waverly’s path, hesitating at the door before swallowing her fear and pushing inside. 

“-and no more death threats, Xavier!” Waverly is chastising Dolls, her finger in his face. “Honestly, you need to just-just take a chill pill! And for your information, I plan on making out with whoever I want _wherever_ I want, so you need to get over your ridiculous Victorian sensibilities and grow _up_!” Waverly punctuates her point by poking Dolls in the chest and Nicole has to hide a laugh behind her hand at the indignant look the man gets. Waverly turns and sees her, and then she’s striding over and grabbing Nicole by the wrist and going down the inside stairs, leaving Dolls to sort out what just happened on his own. 

Nicole lets Waverly drag her down the stairs and into the nearest room, which looks like a storage room of some kind. 

“Waves, what are you-“ Nicole is cut off by Waverly launching herself up at her lips, and Nicole’s hands fly to Waverly’s waist as they both stumble back. Nicole’s back hits something solid and Waverly’s body presses up against hers. Their kisses are open, their gasping breaths mingling between them. Waverly bites down hard on Nicole’s lower lip and Nicole moans into her mouth, her fingers gripping tightly at Waverly’s hips. A warm tongue soothes the sting of the bite just a second later, and Nicole sucks it into her mouth, eliciting a roll of Waverly’s hips against hers. 

Nicole pushes Waverly back a bit, their lips parting with a wet noise. Nicole leans her head back and takes a deep breath. 

“What’s wrong?” Waverly asks, her voice breathless and her lips red. 

“Nothing,” Nicole says, “I just-we should uh, slow down.” She looks at where her hands have slid up Waverly’s shirt and rest on the warm skin of her waist, and Nicole pulls them back, straightening out Waverly’s shirt and putting her hands back over the fabric. 

“You’re probably right,” Waverly says, but she still pouts up at Nicole, running her hands over Nicole’s shoulders and collarbone, playing with the edge of Nicole’s low-cut tank top. Her fingers brush the skin below Nicole’s clavicle and the redhead shivers, goosebumps popping up across her skin. Waverly grins, wolfish, and she leans forward, pressing hot kisses to the exposed skin, and Nicole whimpers when teeth scrape against her collarbone. 

“Waverly,” Nicole warns, and Waverly lifts her head, her eyes wide and innocent. Nicole shakes her head and leans down, leaving a small kiss on Waverly’s lips. “And you called me trouble,” she sighs. Waverly grins, cupping Nicole’s jaw in both hands and pulling her down for a succession of small pecks, leaving Nicole to try and keep up. 

“I promise I won’t try any funny business,” Waverly murmurs, “but you have to stay here and keep kissing me.” 

Nicole laughs, nodding her head. “Deal.” Their lips meet again, and Nicole thinks she might have stumbled into heaven instead of a dark boat’s hold with all her senses being flooded by Waverly Earp. 

-

There’s something exciting about sneaking around behind your sister’s back, Waverly muses as she strokes her tongue against Nicole’s. They’ve been on the water for four days, and Waverly has come to the conclusion that Nicole Haught’s lips could cure the common cold. And her smile could probably resolve famines. And her eyes are like every beautiful sunset Waverly can remember. And having Nicole Haught stand between your legs and give you her full attention is a commodity that Waverly couldn’t have imagined to be this good. 

“Waverly,” Nicole moans into her mouth as Waverly’s hands slide under the hem of Nicole’s shirt. Waverly smiles into the kiss, scraping her short nails on Nicole’s abdomen. Nicole’s lips move to her neck and her hands tug at the criss-crossed front of Waverly’s shirt. She sucks a hickey below Waverly’s collar bone and Waverly’s fingers tuck into the top of Nicole’s shorts, pulling her closer until she’s settled even more closely between Waverly’s legs.

Waverly isn’t sure if it’s because Nicole is a girl, or because Waverly trusts her so implicitly, but things have been moving almost unnervingly quickly. She’d like to think she’s usually classy enough to keep it in her pants for the first few weeks of dating, but then again, she hasn’t dated anyone new in years. And Nicole seems to know all the right places to press and kiss until Waverly feels like a puddle of _really gay_ goo in Nicole’s hands. 

She tries to rut against Nicole’s stomach, and she almost succeeds, but then Nicole is pulling back, eyes dark and lips swollen. 

“You’re driving me crazy,” Nicole exhales, her chest heaving.

“Mutual,” Waverly sighs, grabbing the back of Nicole’s neck and puling her in for a messy open kiss, tongues slipping against each other and teeth clicking together. Nicole whimpers when Waverly rolls her bottom lip between her teeth, and the noise shoots straight between Waverly’s legs. She tries to find friction against Nicole, pouting when the redhead pulls back again. 

“Gotta slow down,” Nicole tries again, “I’m not having our first time in this _really_ grody hold.” 

It’s so Nicole, sweet and thoughtful, but Waverly is dealing with some very tightly wound feelings. She takes Nicole’s hand by the wrist and slowly moves it to press between her legs, and Nicole looks like she might pass out. 

“Just-just get me off,” Waverly says, “please, baby, I need you.” Nicole’s brain might have short-circuited, because she stands there for a second before nodding, pressing her hand flat and leaning back in to kiss Waverly. 

Waverly sighs into the kiss, guiding her hips as best she can against Nicole’s hand, searching for the right angle. The seam of her jean shorts presses in just the right spot, and Waverly lets out a low whine. Nicole notices, sucking on Waverly’s tongue and pressing harder with her hand. Waverly digs her fingers into Nicole’s shoulders, her heels pressing into the backs of Nicole’s thighs. Nicole shifts her hand, putting more pressure over Waverly’s clit.

Nicole pulls back from the kiss and puts her lips to Waverly’s ear. “You’re doing great, baby,” she murmurs, “I’ve got you.” Waverly can’t quite make sense of why those words send such strong shocks down between her legs, and she doesn’t really care why. “So good.” 

Waverly’s orgasm hits her suddenly, and she’s panting into Nicole’s neck, hips canting erratically as Nicole rubs her down from the peak, muttering praise into her ear. The shuddering subsides and Waverly is left trying to catch her breath, Nicole stroking her hair and kissing her ear. 

“Holy shit,” Waverly says finally, leaning back and pulling Nicole down for a hard kiss. Nicole hums into it and smiles. 

“Okay?” She asks as they exchange small kisses. 

“If that’s what it’s like with all my clothes on,” Waverly says with a happy sigh, “I don’t think I’ll survive getting naked with you.” Nicole grins and holds her in a close hug. They hold each other for a while, just enjoying the feeling of being close with each other until Waverly’s watch starts beeping. She looks at the time and sighs. “I’ve got to go debrief with Dolls.” Nicole pouts as she pulls back, helping Waverly hop off the ledge she was sitting on. 

“I can’t believe he’s shutting me and Doc out of these meetings,” Nicole complains, pulling her mussed hair up into a ponytail. Waverly licks her lips at the newly exposed skin and misses what Nicole says next. 

“What?” She asks, dragging her eyes from Nicole’s slender neck and instead getting lost in her brown eyes. 

“I was asking if you know why he’s such an ass,” Nicole says. “Also, you’re going to need to change your shirt.” Waverly looks down and sees the large purple splotch on her chest.

“Jesus, Nicole, are you fourteen? A giant hickey, really?” Waverly laughs. Nicole rolls her eyes and they start walking back to the sleeping cabin. 

“I didn’t hear you complaining while it was happening,” Nicole says with a smirk that Waverly simultaneously wants to kiss and slap off her face. 

“Maybe not,” Waverly says, “but just you wait. I’ll get mine.” Nicole opens the door for her and Waverly slides into the room under her arm.

“I can’t see how that would be a bad thing,” Nicole laughs. Waverly shakes her head and grabs a shirt that will cover the hickey, pulling her current shirt off and tossing it at Nicole’s face. Nicole grabs it and folds it neatly, handing it back to Waverly when she’s finished changing. 

“Try not to get into any trouble while I’m gone,” Waverly teases as she steps out of the room. 

“No promises,” Nicole says with a smile. Waverly blows her a kiss and shuts the door, bouncing up the stairs to the bridge. She catches sight of her reflection in a window, her lips still swollen and her hair messed up.

“Damn it, Nicole,” Waverly sighs with a ridiculously enamoured smile. She quickly starts braiding her hair, still working on it as she pushes through the doors to the bridge. 

Wynonna is sitting on the table eating saltine crackers, her face still pale. Dolls is leaning over a map, and Waverly doesn’t miss how Wynonna checks out his ass. 

“Sorry I’m a bit late,” she says brightly, finishing up her braid and joining them by the table. “What’s on the agenda today, Agent?” 

“I’m trying to understand how you came up with these calculations for our route,” Dolls says. “The other Earp doesn’t seem to have any idea.”

“I told you,” Wynonna pipes up, “I’m the brawn, she’s the brains. It’s how we operate. She’ll point me in the right direction and I’ll get what needs to be got.” 

“While that may work for you, I like to be a little more involved in my operations,” Dolls says, “and since this is now _officially_ a Black Badge operation, there will have to be some changes in the way _you_ operate.” 

“Wait, back up,” Wynonna says, putting down her box of crackers, “either I just had a stroke or you said something about _our_ operation being part of your creepy government organization. I’m _really_ hoping it’s the stroke.

“Agreed,” Waverly says, crossing her arms over her chest, “that was _not_ part of our deal.”

Dolls sighs, standing in a military parade rest. “You can’t expect government resources to come without the government.” 

“Uh, actually I can,” Wynonna says. “I fully expect them to come with a sticker that says ‘government not included’.” 

“That’s not how the government works,” Dolls says, and Waverly watches with trepidation as Wynonna stands.

“I don’t know if you caught on to this,” Wynonna says, “but I can only assume you’ve seen my record. It’s pretty much a known fact that everything I do is frowned upon by the government. And I’m not looking to go back to jail.” 

“I’ve seen your file, Earp,” Dolls says, “and it doesn’t concern me. Black Badge is only concerned with the recovery of historical artefacts and making sure they stay off illegal trade markets.” 

Wynonna makes a face and shakes her head. “Not gonna fly, Uncle Sam,” she growls, “that treasure is not yours to take.” 

Waverly steps between them. “I’m sure we can work something out,” she says, trying to play the diplomat even if she’s got a hot ball of rage burning in her chest. “Dolls, we appreciate everything you’ve done for us, but we aren’t exactly comfortable operating under a government division. And we can’t give up the whole treasure. It’s sort of the whole reason we’re here.” 

“It doesn’t matter whether or not you like it,” Dolls says. “All of your research is now property of Black Badge. This mission? Black Badge. You can either learn to work with it, or I can have you all thrown into Federal custody.” 

Wynonna lunges forward, and Waverly holds her back. “Chill out,” she whispers. Wynonna huffs, stalking around the table and out the door. Dolls watches her go with a bored expression, and Waverly clenches her hands into fists. 

“Now,” Dolls says, “I’ll need all of your research. And we’ll arrange a time for you to run me through it in depth.” He gives her a nod and strides out the opposite doors Wynonna left through. Waverly is left in the bridge with her stolen notes and maps on the table. She briefly debates doing her best to memorize them and burn them, but it’s her entire life’s work. So she just takes a deep breath and heads back down to the cabin. 

Nicole smiles at her when she walks in, her expression turning into concern when she sees Waverly’s face. 

“What’s wrong?” She asks, standing and going over to Waverly. “Did Dolls do something to you? Do you want me to kick his ass?” 

Waverly laughs, but it turns into a sniffle as the frustration turns into tears. Nicole’s eyebrows pull up in the middle and she gently rubs up and down Waverly’s arms. Waverly steps forward and leans into Nicole’s chest, the taller woman wrapping her in her arms and mumbling comforting nonsense into her ear, stroking her hair and her back. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Nicole asks, and Waverly shrugs.

“I don’t know if I’m allowed to,” she sniffs. “I think I messed up asking Dolls for help. Wynonna is _so_ mad.” Nicole leads her over to her bed, sitting them both on the edge and she rubs Waverly’s back while she gets her tears under control. Then Waverly explains the whole thing, and Nicole listens quietly, her eyes on Waverly the whole time. 

When she finishes, Nicole frowns. “What a dick,” she says. “And I’ve never heard of this ‘Black Badge’ crap before. Sounds like another way for the government to skirt around the law.” 

“I just thought I was doing the right thing,” Waverly sighs, “I thought we needed his help, but maybe we would have been better off going at it without it if this is what it’s going to get us.” 

“How were you supposed to know Dolls would show up and take over everything?” Nicole says. “Waves, you’re the whole reason this mission is going forward at all. If Dolls can’t see that, and won’t give you the respect you deserve, then he’s an idiot.” Waverly smiles and leans up, kissing Nicole’s cheek in thanks. 

“Wynonna is going to kill me,” Waverly groans, and Nicole pulls her closer. “She hates the government almost as much as she hates a healthy lifestyle.” Nicole laughs and Waverly can hear her heartbeat from where she’s resting her ear on Nicole’s chest. 

“Wynonna loves you,” Nicole reassures her, “she’ll probably be salty about it for a day and then she’ll be over it.” 

“You’re probably right,” Waverly says, “but it still sucks. I feel like I’ve ruined everything.” 

“Hey,” Nicole says, leaning back and tilting Waverly’s chin up to lock eyes, “you haven’t ruined anything. You did what you thought was best, and maybe it comes with a few shitty little government agencies poking into your business. But why do I have the feeling that one robot government man isn’t going to stop the Earps from accomplishing their goals?” Waverly smiles, and she strokes Nicole’s cheek.

“You’re good at that,” Waverly mumbles.

“What’s that?” Nicole leans their foreheads together. 

“Making me feel better,” Waverly says, and she tilts her chin up, kissing Nicole softly on the lips. Nicole smiles into the kiss, and it’s sweet and everything Waverly’s come to love about being with Nicole. 

“I just tell the truth,” Nicole says when they pull apart to breathe, tilting her head and changing the angle of the kiss. Waverly sighs into it, lips moving slowly together. 

“You’re also good at that,” Waverly mutters between kisses, and Nicole smiles, her lips tasting like sunshine.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I'm so blown away by the response. I think there was a review that was longer than the previous chapter...it's unbelievable. All the kudos and every comment makes me so happy, I'm so glad this world is resonating with you guys :)


	7. and now shot shoreward, now shot back

Manzanillo is warm and sunny, and Wynonna couldn’t be happier to be off that damn boat. They split up into teams to buy supplies, Wynonna grabbing Nicole as the person she has the most neutral feelings towards at the moment. 

She drags the reluctant ginger to the closest store and straight to the liquor section. 

“I don’t think Dolls meant ‘tequila’ when he suggested we get canned vegetables,” Nicole says when Wynonna grabs about eight forties of prime tequila. 

“Dolls can shove canned vegetables up his perfectly shaped ass,” Wynonna grumbles. She pays for the alcohol and the bottles clink together in the plastic bags. 

Nicole manages to get Wynonna into a proper supermarket and she buys enough real food to hopefully appease Dolls when he sees all the alcohol they bought. They meet up with Doc, who also has a large bag of alcohol, and Wynonna figures she can let him off the hook for being a petty child. They sit on the wharf and Nicole watches as Wynonna and Doc pass one of the bottles back and forth. 

“So what are we going to do about Agent Dolls?” Doc says, and Wynonna huffs, taking a large swig from the bottle. 

“We can’t do this without him,” she sighs. “I hate it just as much as you do, but if we’re going to pay our way out of this, we _need_ to get this treasure.” She doesn’t notice how Nicole perks up and leans closer. 

“I still don’t see why we haven’t just shot the witch and gotten it done with,” Doc growls. 

“Uh, maybe because we’d be Swiss cheese if we ever got close enough to try that?” Wynonna says. “Look, our best bet is to get that treasure before the year is out and pay up. There’s more than enough to pay and get away with enough to build a small fortune.” 

Doc grunts, but seems to agree. 

They sit together in silence and watch boats go by in the harbour. Dolls and Waverly find them half an hour later and they slowly make their way to the boat. 

Wynonna is just about to head up the ramp when a bullet whizzes by her ear. 

“Everyone down!” Dolls yells, and Wynonna ducks her head, scrambling up the ramp and hiding behind the solid railing along the perimeter of the boat. She unholsters Peacemaker and loads it, peeking over the wall to try and spot the people shooting at them. 

“Doc, do you see them?” She yells. Waverly slides up beside her, cocking her shotgun with a surprisingly fierce look on her face. The sound of squealing tires draws her eyes to the left end of the road, and four giant black SUVs tear up the road, screeching to halt in front of the boat. 

“Subtle,” Waverly says, and Wynonna laughs. The doors to the SUVs fly open and a barrage of bullets are opened on the boat. Wynonna waits until it subsides, then she and Waverly are popping up and firing almost blindly in the direction of the shots. She can hear the rhythmic firing of Doc’s twin pistols, and it brings a sense of calm over her. 

Large men in black kevlar come running towards the ramp, and Wynonna curses. 

“Dolls, get us out of here!” She yells, firing at the charging men. Waverly swings her gun to aim at the fastenings of the ramp, two quick shots fired in rapid succession, and the ramp breaks from the side of the boat. “Nice shot, baby girl!” Wynonna praises her sister as the men on the ramp fall into the dirty harbour water with a _very_ satisfying splash. She feels the boat start to move, and she keeps firing at the figures on the shore. 

“Wynonna! It’s her!” Doc yells, and Wynonna sees a flash of blonde hair in one of the SUVs. 

“Shit,” she hisses, “Doc! Do _not_ do anything stupid!” 

Of course, he’s already doing the stupid thing when she yells that. He stands up straight and aims carefully at the blonde head. Wynonna can see Nicole trying to call him down, and she tries to provide some cover fire. But it’s over as soon as it starts, and time seems to slow as a bullet drives through Doc’s shoulder. Nicole rugby tackles him to the ground, firing methodically and accurately over the wall, and Wynonna can’t quite believe her eyes as three men drop. 

“Shit-tickets!” Waverly yells at them, firing a round into the chest of a particularly large man. 

The boat pulls out of range and they all watch over the railing as the figures get smaller and smaller with the distance. Wynonna rushes to Doc’s side, Nicole already pressing her hands against the wound, red blood pulsing out around her fingers. 

“Waves, get a cloth!” Wynonna yells, pulling Doc’s head into her lap and gently holding his face. Waverly is quick to her side and she hands Nicole a large piece of cloth that looks suspiciously like one of Dolls’ shirts. Nicole folds it and presses it to the bullet wound. 

“I had her, Wynonna,” Doc heaves, “I had her.” 

Wynonna nods, stroking his face. “I know, I know you did,” she soothes. “You’re still an idiot.” Doc laughs through gritted teeth. 

“Waves, get the first aid kit,” Nicole says. “You’re a lucky man, Doc. It just grazed you. Whoever it was has either awful luck, or really bad aim.” Waverly comes back and Nicole sets about bandaging and disinfecting, and Wynonna lets Doc squeeze her hand when the antiseptic burns. 

“How do you know what you’re doing?” Wynonna interrogates as Nicole wraps Doc’s shoulder. 

“We go through basic first aid in the police academy,” Nicole says, “as well as some other stuff that might come in handy in the field.” 

“You’re a cop?” Wynonna asks, incredulous and betrayed. Dolls is a government lackey and Nicole is a narc, and this is a little too much _law_ for Wynonna Earp. 

“I’m going to be,” Nicole says, finishing her wrapping. “There. Done. We’ll need to change that dressing at least three times a day.” Doc nods, and Wynonna and Waverly help him to his feet. 

“Much obliged, Nicole,” he says, and she picks up his hat and puts it back on his head. 

“Not a problem,” she says. “You should go lie down, best to put as little strain on it as possible.” 

Wynonna helps Doc down to the sleeping cabin, bickering all the way. 

—

They dock in Caleta de Campos that night and hold what Waverly dubs an ‘emergency symposium’ on the bridge, everyone crowded around the table with a bright lamp hanging over it. It’s all very mafia and Waverly thinks it’s kind of perfectly ridiculous. 

“Look, I’m the last person to advocate for sea travel, but that’s the fastest,” Wynonna says. 

“The Revenants will know exactly where to wait for us,” Dolls argues, “speed is less important than being alive to get there.” 

“So then what do you suggest?” Doc chimes in. “It is all well and good to shoot ideas down, but how about you come up with one instead?” 

Dolls glares at him. “I can talk to my superiors about arranging air transportation.” 

“Except that there’s no chance of any investigation when we’re thousands of feet above the ground,” Waverly points out, “and we aren’t nearly ready to choose a definitive location.” 

“So we drive,” Doc says. 

“What, like driving isn’t going to make us easy to spot?” Wynonna scoffs. “Why can’t we just stick to the boat? It’s faster, and it keeps us on the same trail as the original thieves.” 

“We’re all losing sight of what’s most important here,” Nicole cuts in. 

“The treasure,” Wynonna and Dolls say simultaneously. 

Nicole rolls her eyes. “The treasure isn’t really relevant if we’re dead or the Revenants get to it first,” she says with a sigh. “We need to throw them off the trail. Make them think we’re on to something, or just plain lose them.” 

Waverly nods, looking at the map they’ve got spread out in front of them. “We could travel by road and take a slightly roundabout route,” she muses. “They’d either think we’re on the complete wrong track and lose interest in following us, or we would shake them.” 

“You said the original story said they went through Panama, right?” Nicole asks, and Wynonna confirms it with a nod. “So we act like we’re headed to Panama. Unless they’ve somehow figured out what we have, they’ll be heading there as well and expecting us to.”

“How does that make them lose interest in us?” Wynonna asks. 

“It doesn’t,” Nicole shrugs, “but it will make them want to get there first.” 

“They’ll rush to Panama and think they’re waiting on us,” Dolls says, “but we won’t show.” 

“Or we _do_ show and we shoot their faces off,” Wynonna says. Dolls and Nicole fix her with identically unimpressed looks and she holds up her hands in surrender. “Or we do your thing.” 

“We’re definitely doing our thing,” Nicole says. “No face shooting unless totally necessary.” 

“ _Narc_ ,” Wynonna coughs. Waverly hits her in the arm. 

“Okay, I’ll get to plotting a route,” Waverly says brightly. Wynonna reaches across the table and gives her a high-five. She and Doc amble downstairs, and Dolls turns to the wheel. Nicole pulls up a chair and sits down, watching as Waverly pulls out maps and gets to work. 

“I’m going to bed,” Dolls announces. “See you in the morning.” Waverly and Nicole bid him goodnight. As soon as the door shuts behind him, Nicole is standing behind Waverly and wrapping her arms around her waist. 

“How are you doing?” She asks, breath warm where it hits Waverly’s ear. 

“Hmm?”

“It was a bit of a rough afternoon,” Nicole clarifies. 

“Oh,” Waverly says with a shrug, “I’m fine. Not a single mark on me.” Nicole hums, pressing a kiss to the side of Waverly’s face. 

“Okay,” she says, “I just wanted to be sure you’re fine.” 

“You’re sweet,” Waverly says, turning her head to meet Nicole’s lips in a lopsided kiss. Nicole hums happily into it, and Waverly likes the way her heart speeds up. 

“How long will this take?” Nicole asks when they part, nodding at the maps. 

“Probably no more than fifteen minutes,” Waverly says. “Why?” She reaches up and strokes Nicole’s cheek with the back of her hand. “You can go to sleep if you’re tired.” 

“I’m not tired,” Nicole insists, “I just want to make sure we have enough time to make out before bed.” Waverly laughs at the way Nicole waggles her eyebrows. 

“If you behave and let me work,” Waverly says slowly, “I can finish this in ten minutes.” Nicole grins and releases Waverly, sitting back down on the chair and crossing her ankles. She mimes zipping her lips and throwing away the key. Waverly smiles and focuses back on the maps, butterflies in her stomach and a light in her chest. 

—

There’s something infinitely amusing about watching Doc and Dolls try to negotiate with a car rental salesman. Doc is, through and through, a con-man. His words are silky and sweet like honey, but every inch of headway he makes gets destroyed by Dolls flashing his badge. 

“I think we’re going to die here,” Wynonna groans from where she’s draped across one of the waiting room armchairs. 

“How much longer do you think it’ll be until Doc actually kills Dolls?” Nicole muses, and Waverly kicks her in the shin. “What? Y’all know I’m not wrong about this.”

“I bet old-timey treasure hunters never had to put up with Enterprise Rent-A-Car bullshit,” Wynonna says. “God, things were so much easier when you just got on your boat and got scurvy.” 

“Yes, Wynonna,” Nicole says, rolling her eyes, “if only we could sail there on a death-trap of a ship and catch diseases from malnutrition. Hey, maybe if we’re lucky, we can get syphilis!” 

“Can the two of you stuff it?” Waverly snaps. Nicole crosses her arms over her chest defensively, her ears burning at being told off like she’s back in elementary school. 

“We’ve been here almost two hours, Waves,” Wynonna says, “I’m losing my mind!”

“Maybe instead of complaining, you could do something to help?” Waverly suggests, and Nicole’s eyes flit between their equally stubborn faces. There’s a tense pause, and then Wynonna is sighing and getting to her feet. She makes her way to the counter and Nicole snorts when she sees Wynonna adjust her cleavage.

Waverly huffs and settles into her chair. Nicole looks over at her and nudges her with her elbow. 

“Hey,” Nicole says, “I know why I’m being cranky, but what’s up with the whole glaring-daggers-at-your-sister?” 

Waverly looks over at her and sighs. “I’m just…she’s been acting weird to me since the whole Black Badge thing. And in _classic_ Wynonna form, she refuses to talk about it. Which means I get the cold shoulder even though I’ve apologized like, fifty times!” 

Nicole reaches out and puts her hand on Waverly’s knee. “It’s gonna be okay,” she says softly and she offers Waverly a small smile. “At some point Wynonna will have to pull her head out of her ass to get some air, and then things will work themselves out.” 

“Unless we actually _do_ die here,” Waverly says, and Nicole’s stomach flutters at the wry grin Waverly gives her. 

“Nicole Haught isn’t going to die in a Rent-A-Car waiting room,” Nicole says. “Nicole Haught is going to die saving the Prime Minister, or Nicole is never going to die.” 

“Does Nicole often talk about herself in the third person?” Waverly giggles, and Nicole leans closer. 

“Only when Nicole is _really_ trying to make her point,” she whispers, and Waverly leans forward, their noses two inches from touching. 

“Well, Waverly thinks Nicole is kind of weird,” Waverly whispers back, and Nicole laughs. 

“But still hot?” 

Waverly rolls her eyes and leans back, smacking Nicole’s shoulder with the back of her hand. Nicole laughs again, rubbing at her shoulder like it hurts. Waverly looks over at where the three other members of their little band are still arguing with the salesman. 

“Still hot,” Waverly says, not looking at Nicole and missing the wide smile that spreads across Nicole’s face, trying to stifle her own smile. 

-

It takes another forty-five minutes, but with some combination of government intimidation, sweet-talking, and boobs has gotten them a decently sized van. They load up all their gear and cram into the van. Dolls refuses to let anyone else drive, and Wynonna calls shotgun before they even see the van, so Nicole has to fit her long legs into the backseat. Waverly sits in the middle of Nicole and Doc, and it only takes half an hour for her to nod off on Nicole’s shoulder. 

Wynonna reaches for the radio and Dolls slaps her hand away. 

“Don’t touch my radio,” he scolds her. 

“Uh, this isn’t _your_ anything,” she says, “pretty sure if we left it up to you, we’d still be in that rental place by next Tuesday.” She reaches for the radio again and Dolls’ hands clench tightly on the steering wheel.

“Just don’t put on anything crappy,” Dolls relents. Wynonna finds a station that seems to play almost exclusively mariachi music, and Nicole waits for Dolls to protest. 

She nearly has a heart attack when he just clenches his jaw and keeps driving. 

“How’s this, Deputy Marshal?” Wynonna asks, her voice dripping with attitude. 

“Just make sure you don’t get us lost, Earp,” Dolls says. 

“Keep on dreamin’,” Waverly mumbles from Nicole’s shoulder, her breath warm where it washes over the exposed skin of Nicole’s neck. She snuggles in closer and Nicole’s heart thumps in her chest when Waverly wraps her arms around Nicole’s arm and nudges her nose against the dip above Nicole’s clavicle. 

Eventually Wynonna changes the station to something more contemporary, and Nicole thinks she must be in some strange nightmare when Doc starts singing along to Adele under his breath. Waverly wakes up around then and she leads them in different car games. It’s every unbearably clichéd road trip Nicole has ever taken in one cramped van, but Waverly stays pressed to her side the entire time and Nicole never once wishes she was anywhere else.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're nearing the halfway point! I've got about twelve of these puppies written up so far. A thousand thank yous again, I hope I can keep you all happy as the plot thickens. This one's a little shorter but I think the next one is solidly three times as long. Whoops. 
> 
> Also, I don't reply to comments because I want to keep the comment count true, but I see every lovely thing you say and I freak out every time I get a comment because I'm apparently easily won-over? But that being said, if there are any questions or anything, hit me up on tumblr or I'll try to remember to answer them in the notes of the next chapter :)


	8. all still and voiceless as love is

Nicole is thankful to be out of the rental van, and she stretches her legs in relief. Not that being squished between a car door and Waverly Earp isn’t a _bit_ of a dream come true, but she’d never really imagined that they’d be accompanied by Waverly’s sister and two broody men. 

Dolls, Wynonna, and Doc volunteer to find a hotel. Waverly spent the rest of the car ride excitedly talking about the Archaeological Museum in Zihuatanejo, and Nicole suggests that they take this time to go check it out. 

That earns her five minutes in a quiet alleyway with Waverly’s hand up her shirt. 

If Nicole thought Waverly was amazing when she was talking about her research, seeing her in a museum full of new old things is kind of next level. Waverly leads her through exhibits with a light in her eyes and a never-ending stream of information pouring out of her lips.

They’re standing in front of a display of clay votives, Waverly spouting out facts about early spiritual beliefs in the Americas when Nicole feels a very sudden swelling of affection in her chest. 

“You are incredible,” Nicole interrupts, and Waverly blushes. 

“You didn’t let me finish,” Waverly tries to scold, but the way she’s smiling is anything but stern. Nicole grins and bumps her hip against what ends up being Waverly’s waist. 

“I can’t help it if you’re so smart it bamboozles me,” Nicole says, and Waverly rolls her eyes. 

“I can’t believe I like you,” she sighs. 

Nicole laughs. “Neither can I.” She looks around the empty room and leans down, pressing a quick kiss to Waverly’s lips. “Come on, genius, educate me some more.” 

They wander around a little longer, settling on a bench in the courtyard. Their knees bump together and they watch the small fountain gurgle in front of them. 

“Can I ask you something?” Waverly breaks the silence. 

“Always,” Nicole says, turning to face Waverly. 

“Well, I guess it isn’t so much a _question_ ,” Waverly says. “I’ve just been thinking about the whole long road trip thing, and while I’m totally hyped to be stuck in that van for days with everyone…I think we need to go to Panama.” 

Nicole raises her eyebrows and nods slowly. Waverly watches her with trepidation written all over her face, and Nicole puts a hand on her shoulder. “If you say we need to go to Panama, then we should go to Panama,” she says. “I trust you.” 

“You don’t need to know why?” Waverly asks timidly. 

Nicole shrugs. “If you want to tell me, I’ll listen,” she says, “but no, I don’t need an explanation. I have faith that you wouldn’t lead us on a wild goose chase into certain danger for no good reason.” Waverly chuckles at that, scooting over to lean into Nicole’s side and pulling her arm over her shoulders. 

“So you’ll have my back?” Waverly asks. “I don’t know if everyone else will go for it.”

“Hey, we’re all behind you one hundred percent,” Nicole says with a reassuring smile. “We all trust that you know what you’re doing.” 

“Dolls doesn’t seem to think I’m capable of anything,” Waverly mumbles. 

“Dolls is a butthole,” Nicole says. 

Waverly snorts. “Did you just say ‘butthole’?” Nicole grins and nods, and Waverly shakes her head. “You know, most adults would just use the ‘a’ word.” 

“I’m not most adults,” Nicole says with a cheeky wink, drawing out an eye-roll from Waverly. “Come on, let’s head back. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” 

They walk slowly back to the hotel location Wynonna texted Waverly, their hands bumping between them as they walk. Nicole feels very middle school when she steps a little closer to Waverly so their hands brush more frequently. Waverly stops at every shop window, pining after the brightly coloured clothes and kitschy decorations. Nicole’s stomach is starting to growl, but she dutifully waits while Waverly debates going inside each store. The sun is starting to set, casting them in a warm pink glow, and Nicole can’t take her eyes off of Waverly as they stroll along the seaside. The sunset over the ocean is breathtaking, and Waverly stops to take a few pictures, and Nicole complies with Waverly’s directions to pose accordingly. 

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” Nicole teases when Waverly finally decides they’re done. 

“I’m lucky _you’re_ pretty,” Waverly fires back. Nicole smiles and wraps her arms around Waverly’s waist, pulling her close. 

“Can I kiss you?” She asks, inches away from Waverly’s lips. Waverly nods, and they share a sweet kiss, lips tasting like ocean air, and Nicole feels her heart soar. Waverly’s hands rest on the back of Nicole’s neck, gently stroking her skin and sending small shivers through Nicole’s spine. 

“Thank you for sticking through the museum,” Waverly says between small kisses. 

“Thank you for taking me,” Nicole says, and she places one final kiss on Waverly’s lips. 

Somewhere between the beach and the hotel, Waverly slides her hand into Nicole’s. 

-

“You’re killing me, Waves,” Wynonna groans when Waverly tells the rest of the group about her new plan. 

“We just sent all of our enemies to one area to _avoid_ a firefight,” Dolls says, irritation clear in his voice, “and now you want to screw that entire plan and just head straight into their waiting arms.” 

Waverly winces and tries for an apologetic smile. “I just think that if we totally forego the possibility that some of the _Iqueue_ ’s treasure got taken that way, we might miss out on part of the find,” she defends herself. “There has to be a reason that they planned to go into the Caribbean, and with any large group they might have disagreed and split. I just have this really strong gut feeling that we need to go to Panama.” 

Wynonna huffs and flops into the nearby armchair. “That’s going to be a long drive.” Waverly smiles at her and when she looks like she’s going to launch a hug at Wynonna, the older Earp holds up her hands. “I trust you, baby girl. Don’t act so surprised.” Waverly blinks back a wave of happy tears.

“It means a lot,” she says, and Wynonna returns her smile. 

“I’m not convinced,” Dolls says. Waverly’s face falls and Nicole steps forward from where she was standing behind Waverly. 

“Then you’re an idiot,” she says bluntly, crossing her arms over her chest. “Waverly’s kind of the leading expert on this.” Waverly places a hand on Nicole’s arm, trying to tell her to calm down, and Nicole huffs but complies as she always seems to do recently, putty to Waverly’s wishes. 

Doc speaks up from his place lounging on the bed. “All those in favour of following Waverly’s plan?” Everyone but Dolls raises their hand, and Doc smirks at the agent. “Looks like you’re outmanned, Deputy Marshal.” 

Dolls’ jaw ticks, but he nods. “Fine. We go to Panama, but I’m not spending days in a cramped car.” 

“Please not the boat again,” Wynonna prays to the ceiling. 

-

Turns out, not all secret service planes are as fancy as the ones James Bond gets to use. Waverly supposes they’re lucky to have gotten a plane at all, and they are, but she can’t help the disappointment that registers when it doesn’t come with a drink service. 

“There’s a spring poking into my ass,” Wynonna complains from the seat across the aisle. 

“Your seat has springs?” Nicole says. “Jealous.” 

Doc leans around Wynonna and holds up a piece of fabric. “I believe this was once my seatbelt.” Everyone winces as he tosses it to the ground. 

“Dolls _does_ know how to fly this thing, right?” Nicole asks, and Waverly shrugs. 

“He says he does,” she answers. 

“Flying is easy,” Wynonna says, “I just really hope he can land it.” 

An uneasy silence settles over the group, and Nicole’s leg starts bouncing. Waverly puts her hand on Nicole’s knee, squeezing lightly until it stills. 

“Would the government give someone a plane who wasn’t qualified to use it?” Waverly tries to reassure everyone.

“Yes, they would,” Wynonna says, “have you ever _met_ the government?” 

Waverly can’t argue with that logic, and she refuses to try, so she just rolls her eyes and turns to look out the window. She can’t see much through the cloud cover, and Nicole’s leg has started bouncing again. 

“You’re starting to stress me out,” Waverly jokes. Nicole smiles tightly, but her legs doesn’t stop.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, “I just uh, don’t really like flying.” 

“Why not?” Waverly frowns, rubbing slow circles with her thumb on Nicole’s leg. 

Nicole shrugs. “I don’t really know,” she says, “I’ve never had a bad flight. I just don’t really enjoy it.” 

Waverly looks over at where Wynonna and Doc are bickering over a card game, and she twists her lips before smiling up at Nicole. “Would holding my hand help?” She loves the way Nicole’s eyes light up and her smile loosens up, dimples making their appearance. 

“Only one way to find out,” she says, and Waverly gently takes Nicole’s hand in hers, intertwining their fingers. They both have ridiculous, shy smiles on their faces, like holding hands on an airplane is as scandalous as it gets. 

-

They set up home base in a nondescript motel, their conspicuous van parked outside behind a few trees. 

“We need to do recon,” Dolls says. “Waverly, where do you think the Revenants will head first?” 

Waverly points at a spot on the map labelled Colón, and Wynonna snickers. 

“Of course they head to the colon,” Wynonna jokes, “they’re the embodiment of shit.” 

“Come on, man,” Waverly says, giving her sister an exasperated look. “They’ll be headed to Colón, but if they’re half as smart as they think they are, there should be a search that goes on throughout the canal and the lakes around it.” She sees Nicole nodding along and chewing thoughtfully on a handful of trail mix.

“We shouldn’t go in without knowing what we’re up against,” Dolls decides for them, and Waverly ignores Wynonna and Doc rolling their eyes. 

“I could do it,” Waverly volunteers. 

“Nope.” Wynonna immediately shoots her down. “No way, baby girl, you are going to stay here where you are safe and not getting shot at.” 

“Excuse you,” Waverly says, crossing her arms and glaring at Wynonna, “you are _not_ the boss of me.” She turns back to Dolls and fixes him with a look that very obviously tells him she means business. “I’m the smallest, and if I can sneak my drunk ass past Gus and Curtis at three AM, I think I can sneak around a bunch of idiot Rev-Heads. Also, I’m super bendy, so small spaces are no problemo.” 

“Don’t you dare let her go,” Wynonna threatens Dolls. 

“She’s got a point,” Dolls says with a shrug. “Waverly, if you’re sure, I won’t stop you.” Wynonna throws up her hands in exasperation and curses at him. He ignores her, and Waverly nods eagerly. 

“I can do it.”

“Okay, you’ll head out at dawn tomorrow,” Dolls says. 

“At least let me go and watch her back,” Wynonna tries. 

“My dear, as fearsome as you may be in a firefight,” Doc cuts in, “stealthy you are not.” 

Nicole steps in and puts her hand on Wynonna’s arm. “I’ll go,” she says with a bracing squeeze to Wynonna’s bicep. Wynonna looks at her and groans. 

“Great, I feel _so_ much better,” she sneers. Nicole drops her hand, letting Wynonna have a moment to collect herself. 

“Wynonna, I’m going to be fine,” Waverly says, “it’s not like it’s dangerous. I’ll just pop in, take a few pictures, mark a few X’s on a map, and pop right back out.” Dolls opens his mouth to correct her, but she holds up her hand and he thinks better of it. 

“It’s too dangerous,” Wynonna insists. 

“I can handle myself!” Waverly argues, a hot anger burning in her chest. “I’m not a little kid anymore, okay? It’s been ten years, you need to _stop_ treating me like I’m twelve and-and realize that I grew up without you!” Wynonna’s eyes widen and Waverly can see that her barbed remark hit the right target. 

“I don’t think it’s me that needs to deal with that,” Wynonna growls. Waverly vaguely registers the other three leaving the room quietly, but she’s focused on Wynonna. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Waverly demands. 

“You keep throwing it in my face that I left,” Wynonna says, her voice getting louder with each word. “I did what I had to do! I’m not sorry that I left, I’m not sorry that I went and made a life for myself, Waverly! Stop making everything I do about you!” 

“Oh, don’t worry Wynonna,” Waverly drawls, angry tears at the corners of her eyes, “I’m not stupid enough to think _anything_ you do is about _anyone_ but yourself!” With that, she storms past Wynonna, ramming their shoulders together, and out the door. Dolls and Nicole are over by the van, and Waverly marches over to them. 

“Wave-“ Nicole starts, but Waverly interrupts her, not making eye contact with either of them.

“So, dawn tomorrow?” She asks, and Dolls nods. “Great.” She turns on her heel and marches to the room she and Nicole are sharing, slamming the door shut behind her. She flings herself onto the bed with all the drama of an angry teenager and buries her face in a pillow. Her body heaves with sobs, and she isn’t sure if she hates herself or her words more. 

The door opens slowly and closes quietly. Someone sits on the edge of the bed and gently rubs a hand up and down Waverly’s back. Waverly lifts her head and blinks through her tears to see Nicole with a concerned look on her face, eyebrows tugged together. Waverly hides in the pillow again.

She feels Nicole climb over her, and then a long body is pressed up against hers, one hand still rubbing soothing circles between her shoulder blades. 

“If you want to talk,” Nicole whispers, “I’ll be here.” 

It’s calm and it’s not unexpected, because Nicole is one of the most kind and thoughtful people Waverly thinks she’s ever known, but it warms Waverly’s heart. She turns over and snuggles into Nicole’s shoulder, her tears leaving stains on the other woman’s shirt. Nicole holds her until her sobs are hiccoughs and her tears have dried up. 

Waverly leans back, and Nicole grabs the box of tissues from the nightstand. Waverly accepts the thankfully, blowing her nose and wiping off the tracks of makeup the tears left. 

“Sorry,” Waverly mumbles when she sees the state of Nicole’s shirt. 

“Don’t be,” Nicole shrugs, “it’s just a shirt. I’ve got plenty of others.” She gives Waverly a careful smile. “You okay?” 

Waverly sighs and shrugs her shoulders. “I said a lot of stuff that I didn’t mean,” she says. “But maybe I did mean it?” Nicole waits patiently for her to collect her thoughts. “It’s like…Wynonna left, y’know? And then ten years go by where I was missing my big sister for all the important stuff, and one day she comes back and I jump into this big mission thinking we’ll be on equal footing, but she keeps treating me like I’m made of glass, or like I’m a child.” Waverly flops down on her back and stares up at the popcorn ceiling. 

Nicole lies down beside her and looks over at her, her eyes patient. 

“I’m so happy to have her back,” Waverly continues, “but it’s hard to remember that when she’s being so-so-“

“So much like a big sister?” Nicole suggests, and Waverly looks at her. Nicole sighs, and sucks her bottom lip into her mouth before releasing it and speaking. “Look, I know it’s shitty that Wynonna is being so protective, and I get that. But she’s your sister. Sisters are supposed to be protective and annoying.” 

“That doesn’t give her the right to tell me what to do,” Waverly counters. 

“I agree,” Nicole says, “and I’m not saying what she’s doing is right, or okay. But it can’t hurt to look at it from her perspective.” 

“Okay, so her perspective is that I’m incapable of looking after myself,” Waverly asserts, clenching her jaw. 

“You just got her back, right?” Nicole says, and Waverly nods slowly. “She just got you back, too.” When Waverly remains still and silent, Nicole sighs and stands up. “I’m going to get ready for bed,” she tells Waverly, grabbing her toiletries and heading to the bathroom. Waverly watches her go out of the corner of her eye. 

When the bathroom door closes, Waverly sighs and lets her jaw unclench. _Why does Nicole have to be right_ , she thinks, getting up and exiting the room. She pauses with her hand raised in front of Wynonna’s door, her pride and her love for her sister at war for half a minute before she bites the bullet and knocks. 

Wynonna opens the door and leans in the frame with her arms crossed. “What, come to yell at me some more?” She snarks, and Waverly digs her nails into her palms to hold back an equally snarky retort. 

“I’m going on the recon mission tomorrow,” she says, “and I’m sorry if that upsets you, but I’m doing it.” 

“Okay,” Wynonna says, blunt and seemingly uncaring. 

“I promise I’ll be really careful,” Waverly continues. “If you want to come with, I’m good with that.” 

Wynonna nods, then she’s shaking her head. “I was being an asshole,” she sighs, “I’m sorry. I trust you, Waverly. I just can’t bear the thought of you getting hurt.” 

Waverly smiles. “I know.” She opens her arms and tilts her head. Wynonna laughs, but she steps forward and they hold each other tightly. Waverly feels Wynonna place a kiss on the side of her head, and then the older sister is pulling back and clearing her throat. 

“Better get some sleep if you’re heading out at dawn,” she says, and Waverly’s smile widens. Wynonna rolls her eyes and shoos her out of the door. “And tell Haughtshot that if _anything_ happens to you, I’m going to kick her ass ten ways to Sunday!” Wynonna calls after her, and Waverly gives her two thumbs up. 

-

Dawn comes quickly, and Waverly draws energy from her excitement. Nicole and Dolls are less enthused by the hour, but Dolls gives Waverly surveillance equipment and Nicole a gun, and her drops them off near the Revenants’ presumed position. They hike in silence, Nicole’s eyes raking over the landscape for any signs of movement. 

“Maybe I was wrong,” Waverly sighs during the second hour of their hike. 

“Or maybe they have ATVs and other helpful vehicles,” Nicole shrugs. A sudden explosion rocks the ground and Nicole pushes Waverly down, dropping to the ground and commando crawling to take cover behind a large boulder. Waverly peeks around the rock, ducking back with an awed sort of grin. 

“I take it back,” Waverly whispers, “I’m a genius.” Nicole leans over her and looks for herself. 

There are about half a dozen men by a large armoured truck. A cloud of smoke and dust is billowing up a few hundred yards ahead of them. 

“What are they doing?” Nicole mutters. 

“I’d say they’re digging,” Waverly says as she rapidly snaps pictures, “albeit very inefficiently.” Nicole hums her agreement, watching as three of the men hop down into the hole they just blew, shovels at the ready. She leans back behind the rock and rolls up her shirtsleeves. 

“Marker?” She asks, and Waverly nods, pulling a black sharpie out of her bag. Nicole takes it and uncaps it with her teeth. 

“Oh my god, you’re going to do the _Die Hard_ thing, aren’t you?” Waverly laughs, and Nicole wiggles her eyebrows. She spits the cap out into Waverly’s waiting hand and takes a deep breath. 

“Okay, get on those binoculars and give me some names,” Nicole instructs, and Waverly complies with a fond roll of her eyes. 

“Alrighty, we’ve got Red Neckerchief, Eyepatch, Twitchy,” Waverly lists, “Fringed Jacket, Compensating With Guns, Leather Pants, and Coffee Stains.” 

“Red, Patch, Twitch, Fringe, Guns, Pants, Stain,” Nicole rattles off. She smirks proudly at her arm. “If only my academy classmates could see me now.” 

“Is it every young cop’s dream to live a _Die Hard_ scenario?” Waverly asks, and Nicole nods. 

“Duh.” 

Waverly laughs and looks back around the boulder. “Nicole, take a look at what they’re bringing up,” she says, handing the binoculars over. Nicole takes a long look, cursing under her breath. 

“That’s a big box,” she says. 

“We need to see what’s in it,” Waverly says, and she moves out from behind the boulder before Nicole can stop her. She’s ducking through tall grass, and Nicole curses, tucking her conspicuous red hair up into a the dark green ball cap she’d taken from Dolls. She follows in a crouch, one hand resting on the gun at her hip. 

“Waverly, stop!” Nicole hisses as Waverly darts behind a large bush. Nicole huffs and follows, trying to keep her footsteps as light as possible. 

“I think it’s a safe,” Waverly whispers. Nicole peers through the leaves. 

“I’m less concerned with the contents than with the fact that there are seven assholes in between it and us,” Nicole hisses back. 

“Cover me, I’m getting closer,” Waverly whispers. Nicole grits her teeth, but draws her gun, eyes on the group of men by the pit. She keeps track of Waverly out of the corner of her eye, fear building in her chest. 

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Nicole sighs. 

The men start to move back to their armoured vehicle, and Nicole curses under breath, trying to spot Waverly in the brush. A loud crash draws her eyes and the men’s over to where Waverly just knocked over a crate of ammo. Patchy and Fringe draw their guns and approach Waverly. 

“Fuck my life,” Nicole groans, taking careful aim and firing her gun. Fringe goes down with a hand clamped over his arm, and Patchy dashes over to Waverly, grabbing her by the hair and dragging her out from behind the overturned crate. 

“Come out with your hands up!” Patchy yells in Nicole’s direction, and he presses the muzzle of his gun to the side of Waverly’s head. “Either that, or I blow this one’s brains all over the ground!” Nicole can feel her heart pounding with panic, and she tries to remember her training about hostage situations, about what to do when the girl you like is being held at gunpoint, but all she can do is shakily toss her gun to the ground and stand up with her hands out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied about the length so I thought I'd post this early :) some mushy feelings, some spiky feelings. You all rock, we breached 100 kudos! Look at that, 100 people who like this wild brain-child I had. That's wild, I honestly didn't know if anyone would like this weird history-nerd story I had, but I'm so happy I get to share it with all of you :)


	9. and resolute in search of gold

Wynonna paces back and forth in the hotel room, fervently checking the time.

“You’re giving me motion sickness, Earp,” Dolls says from where he’s going over a map or something equally boring. Doc looks up at Wynonna from where he’s fiddling with a deck of cards and they share a look.

“Would you care for a game of of five-card, Deputy Marshal?” Doc asks.

“I don’t gamble,” Dolls answers quickly. 

“How about smiling, ever tried that?” Wynonna fires at him with a sickly sweet smile. Dolls glares up at her. She pulls a face at him and keeps pacing. 

“Pacing isn’t going to make time pass any more quickly,” Dolls says, and Wynonna flips him off. 

“They’ve been gone way too long,” she mutters, “they should have radioed in.” 

“No news is good news,” Dolls sighs. 

“Yeah, you can try to follow that bullshit doctrine when it’s _your_ baby sister out there,” Wynonna snipes at him. 

“I don’t have a sister.” 

“Jesus, that is so _not_ the point!”

The sound of screeching tires outside stop Dolls from retorting, and all three of them grab their guns and look out the window. A large black SUV is pulled up in front of the motel. The back door opens and someone is tossed out onto the pavement, their form curled up. 

“It’s Nicole,” Wynonna says, going to rush out the door. Dolls grabs her arm and shakes his head. 

“If you go out there right now, you’re dead,” he hisses. Wynonna fiercely hates that he’s right.

They watch with baited breath as Nicole struggles to her feet and stumbles over to their door. Dolls cocks his gun and opens the door just wide enough for Nicole to slip in, his gun trained on the vehicle. Once the door is closed, Nicole sways on her feet and Doc steadies her, helping her over to sit on the bed. Wynonna holsters Peacemaker and sits beside her. The sound of tires squealing signal the vehicle’s departure.

“Shit, Haught,” she sighs, “they fucked you up nicely.” Nicole laughs and immediately winces. 

The bridge of her nose is swollen, the underside of her eyes bruising already. There’s a nasty cut above her eyebrow that’s left a bunch of dried blood on her face. Her lip is split and she’s clutching at her side. Her hair is loose and it looks like someone did a bit of a hack job on it, and Wynonna winces in sympathy. 

“I’m so sorry, Wynonna,” she says, her breathing shallow. “They got Waverly.”

Wynonna’s blood runs icy in her veins. “What?” 

“She wanted to see what they dug up, and she just went in,” Nicole tries to explain, her face a grimace of pain with every breath. “I tried to stop her, stop them, but I was so outgunned.” 

“Fuck,” Wynonna whispers. 

“They didn’t seem like they wanted to hurt her,” Nicole continues, “something about the heir’s sister not to be harmed?” 

“That is good news,” Doc says, and Nicole nods. 

“By high noon tomorrow, you’ve got to come and surrender yourself to them, unarmed,” Nicole says, “if you ever want to see Waverly again.” Nicole’s voice catches and she drops her head, biting back a sob. “Wynonna, I’m _so_ sorry.” 

Wynonna grits her teeth. “It’s alright, Haught,” she says through her teeth, “I know you would have done anything you could.” 

Dolls comes over with a first aid kit, and Nicole lets him clean up her face. She hardly makes a noise when Dolls disinfects her cuts. 

“Do you remember their position?” He asks, and Nicole nods. She gets up carefully and makes her way to the map, grabbing a marker and drawing an X on the right coordinates. 

“There were seven of them,” Nicole says, “lots of armaments. I caught a quick glimpse of their maps, it looks like there are groups of five to twelve men posted every fifteen kilometres or so, all the way to Colón.” 

“Very good work,” Dolls says, and Nicole shrugs. 

“So when are we going to get Waverly back?” She asks, turning to Wynonna. 

“ _I’ll_ be going right now,” Wynonna says. 

“I’m coming with,” Nicole says, and she goes over to their gun safe, grabbing a glock and testing its weight in her hands. She looks at Wynonna and her eyes seem to dare the Earp to try and tell her otherwise. 

Wynonna sighs and nods. “You and Doc will cover me from a distance,” she instructs, reaching past Nicole and grabbing a rifle. “How’s your aim, Haughtshot?” Nicole takes the rifle and tests the sights. 

“I’ve got you, Earp,” she says, lowering the gun. Wynonna nods and looks at Dolls. 

“You got anything to say, Agent?” She snarks, and Dolls shakes his head. “Good. Now, someone get the narc some ibuprofen, and we’ll be on our way.” 

-

Wynonna gives Peacemaker to Doc, and she hates how naked she feels as she walks into the enemy’s camp unarmed. Waverly is sitting against a crate, her arms and feet bound, a gag in her mouth. Wynonna swallows back the fear in her throat and gives Waverly the slightest nod. 

“Howdy, assholes,” she says, and the Revenants all grin at her. 

“Wynonna Earp,” a crusty dude with an eyepatch greets her, and Wynonna grimaces. “Didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to come here unarmed.” 

“Yeah, that’s something you’re going to learn about me,” she says with a shrug, “I do a lot of stupid things.” The Revenants all laugh and Wynonna points at her sister. “You gonna let her go now?” 

“You think we’re stupid enough to let our only leverage go?” Eyepatch says. “No way. Two Earps for the price of one, Bobo is going to give us whatever we want when we deliver you to him.” 

“So much for ‘all a man has is his word’,” Wynonna says. 

“Mal, shut this bitch up,” a man with a red neckerchief spits. “We’ve got what we came for.” 

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Wynonna says. Red neckerchief takes a step forward, being held back by a bald guy with almost an entire arsenal on his back. “Look, I don’t want trouble, I just want my sister.” 

“Well, you can’t have her,” Eyepatch - Mal - says, and Wynonna smiles.

“I was kinda hoping you’d say that,” she says, and she tucks her hair behind her right ear and drops to the ground. A shot comes from the left and flies right through Mal’s chest, dropping him like a fly. Wynonna scrambles over to Waverly and starts untying the ropes.

“You brought back up?” Waverly says once the gag is removed. 

“‘Course,” Wynonna says. “You are in so much shit, Waverly.” She pulls the ropes from Waverly’s body and feet. 

“We need to get that crate from them,” Waverly says, pointing to where two men are trying to lug it away. Wynonna nods and grabs the gun from Mal’s body, firing warning shots at the guys. They drop the crate and take cover behind it. Wynonna waits until they peek their heads out and she fires two quick shots. She can’t tell if she hit either one, but they both scurry away from the crate. The Earp sisters run towards it and Waverly pries the lid off with a crowbar. Wynonna keeps watch as the Revenants scramble and climb in their armoured vehicles, zipping off into the distance. 

“It’s a safe,” Waverly says breathless, and Wynonna looks in, dropping the gun. 

“Shit,” she says. “That’s old.” Waverly nods and tries to turn the dial.

“Old and totally wrecked from being in the water so long,” Waverly huffs. Wynonna tries, grunting when it doesn’t budge. 

“Doc is going to suggest dynamite,” she says, and Waverly laughs. Wynonna turns to her and looks her and down. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” 

Waverly shakes her head. “I’m fine. They barely laid a hand on me.” Wynonna nods and pulls her into a tight hug. 

“Do _not_ scare me like that again,” she mumbles, and Waverly nods. 

“Is Nicole alright?” Waverly asks when they part. 

“She’s pretty beat up,” Wynonna says, “but she’s okay. Haughthead wouldn’t stay behind, she took a few painkillers and came right back out looking for you.” Wynonna wraps her arm around Waverly’s shoulders and holds her tightly against her side. “She’s a good friend for you to have.” 

Waverly nods, and Wynonna misses the look her sister sends her way. 

Dolls drives up in the van soon after, and Nicole climbs gingerly out of the passenger seat, rushing to Waverly’s side, apologies falling from her lips so fast that Wynonna doesn’t bother trying to keep up. She enlists Doc and Dolls to help her get the safe into the van. Waverly helps Nicole get in the back seat, sliding in beside her. Wynonna takes shotgun, and they drive back to the motel with the radio on low to fill the silence. 

-

Nicole grimaces as the shower’s stream hits her bruised ribs. The layer of dirt, sweat, and blood that’s been clinging to her all day is washed away. Her hair is fucked up, uneven and choppy, and it hurts more than all the other injuries. Her eyes sting as she remembers them pulling at it, the crazy twitchy one hacking off a lock and dangling it in her face with a cruel laugh. It wasn’t any method of torture she’d read about, but somehow it worked.

She washes her hair quickly and changes into soft joggers and her softest, cleanest t-shirt. 

Waverly is sitting on her bed, having already showered. She’s watching something on the TV, and Nicole lies down beside her. 

“They fucked up my hair,” she says, and she bites back the tears that threaten to fall. “Sorry, I know it’s not that big of a deal, but. I really liked my hair.” Waverly looks at her with sympathy in her eyes, and she lies down. 

“Do you want me to see if I can fix it?” Waverly asks. Her voice is soft and it washes over Nicole like warm sunlight. 

“I really would,” Nicole says, and Waverly nods, leaning over to press a light kiss to the undamaged part of Nicole’s lips. 

“I’ll get some scissors,” she says, “can you get a chair and wrap a towel around your shoulders or something?” Nicole nods, and gets about to setting up their makeshift salon. 

Waverly comes back and starts sectioning Nicole’s hair. Her fingers scratch lightly against Nicole’s scalp, and Nicole relaxes into the feeling. She keeps her eyes shut the whole time, mourning the loss of her hair quietly. 

“I’ll miss that pretty french braid,” Waverly says, “but I think you’re going to look _really_ hot with shorter hair.” Nicole lets the words calm her, and she reminds herself that, in the grand scheme of things, losing some hair that will grow back isn’t that big a deal. 

It still sucks, though. 

Waverly finishes and brushes stray hairs from Nicole’s neck. “Okay, go check yourself out,” she instructs, and Nicole gets to her feet, wincing at the stiffness in her limbs. She looks in the bathroom mirror. Her hair falls just under her chin, and she has to admit, it looks pretty good. 

“Did you layer my hair?” Nicole asks with a small laugh, running her fingers through it. Waverly pokes her head in the bathroom and smiles. 

“Of course,” she says, “this isn’t some one-star joint, Nicole. I’m _very_ qualified.” Nicole shakes her head with a smile and turns around, grabbing Waverly’s hand and pulling her in close. 

“Thank you,” she says, leaning down to kiss Waverly, careful of her split lip. Waverly hums, smiling into the kiss. 

“You should get some rest,” Waverly says, and Nicole nods, resting her forehead on Waverly’s shoulder. 

“Only if you join me,” she says, and Waverly chuckles. 

“I can do that,” she says, and they share one more kiss before they settle under the covers. Nicole tries to spoon Waverly, but her ribs protest and she tries to apologize. Waverly shakes her head and links their fingers together under the covers. Nicole smiles and squeezes her hand, her eyes drifting shut as she quickly falls victim to sleep. 

-

Standing around an old safe in the middle of a Panamanian national park, they all watch as Doc carefully places explosives on the latch and hinges of the safe’s door. 

“I would suggest taking quite a few steps back,” Doc says with a wolfish grin. They all back up until Doc stops them and holds up the trigger button. “Boom.” His thumb presses down and there’s a loud bang and puff of smoke. Wynonna whoops gleefully and rushes to pry the door off. It lands on the ground with a dull thud, and Waverly is right there to peer inside, shining her flashlight around the body of the safe. 

“Anything?” Dolls asks. 

“I think…” Waverly says, reaching in and grabbing something, pulling it out. She opens her palm and smiles. “Yeah, we got something.” Wynonna peeks over her shoulder.

“Here there be gold,” Wynonna smiles, taking the doubloon from Waverly. “Gold with crossed rapiers.” Waverly bounces on her toes. 

“Anything else?” Nicole asks from where she’s leaning against the van. 

“There’s some gunk,” Wynonna says, grabbing a stick from the ground and poking around inside the safe. Waverly smacks the stick from her hand.

“You could damage anything that’s left,” Waverly scolds her, and Wynonna pouts. Waverly shines her light around and sighs. “There’s nothing left, though. It looks like it was all organic material, probably parchment. I’d guess bank bonds. The safe can’t be older than the late eighteen-hundreds, look at the mechanism.” 

Wynonna looks at where Waverly is pointing, and she nods. “I’m pretending to be on the same page as you,” she says and Waverly gives her a look that says ‘I know’. 

“So what does this all mean, Earp?” Dolls says, and Waverly walks over to the van to grab a baggie for the doubloon.

“Someone from the ship must have settled here and stored their valuables in this safe,” Waverly says, “either that or someone stole the safe and stashed it there. The work on the canal started in 1881, but stopped for a few years. Maybe our safe-owner stashed it during the between years. Rather, their descendants.” 

Waverly feels Nicole’s eyes on her, and she bites back a smile when she catches sight of the adoring eyes the redhead is giving her. 

“Waverly, you truly are the brightest girl I have ever met,” Doc says with a kind smile. Wynonna makes an offended noise and his moustaches twitches with amusement. Waverly smiles back, her chest swelling with pride. 

“I think we should keep moving up the canal,” Dolls says as they all get back in the van. “We’ve lost the element of surprise, but there has to be more here to find.” 

“Our best bet will probably be to check the archives in Colón,” Waverly says. 

“You should always have your colon routinely checked,” Wynonna quips. Nicole leans forward and smacks the back of her head. 

“Nicole and Doc can help you in the archives,” Dolls says, “Wynonna and I will handle any company we find.” 

“What if I wanted to go to the archives?” Wynonna says. Dolls looks over at her and she shrugs. “I’m just saying.” 

-

Nicole sits patiently next to Waverly, watching the other woman read through books and documents like a madwoman. Doc is napping under his hat, having fallen asleep somewhere after the third shipping ledger. 

“Nic, can you go find out if they have residential records dating back to the eighteenth century?” Waverly asks as she flips through a rather large and dense book. 

“Sure thing,” Nicole says, standing and pressing a quick kiss to Waverly’s temple and squeezing her shoulder. The archival computer looks like it belongs in an archive of its own, but Nicole manages to get the right information and starts down the aisles in search of the documents she needs. She hums quietly to herself as she goes, a relatively tuneless version of ‘Take On Me’. The documents are in a plastic sleeve, and Nicole takes the whole thing, a slight spring in her step as she returns to Waverly and places the documents down carefully next to her. 

“You’re the best,” Waverly says, not looking up from her book. Nicole smiles and sits back down, leaning her elbows on the table and resting her chin in her hands. 

“I think Doc is asleep,” Nicole says, nudging Waverly’s foot with her own. Waverly hums, not really paying attention to her. Nicole smiles and runs the toe of her shoe up Waverly’s leg, watching to see if she can break Waverly’s focus even for a second. 

Turns out, Waverly is _really_ into that book. Nicole drops her foot and sighs, tapping her fingers on the wooden tabletop. She leans back in her chair and runs a hand through her newly cut hair. It’s different, but she likes how much lighter she feels with it. She rakes it to one side, then the other. She pushes it straight back, she goofs around with a middle part. 

“Baby, can you stop fidgeting?” Waverly says, and Nicole drops her hands to her lap.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, feeling ten years old and in trouble with the teacher again. 

“It’s fine, just,” Waverly waves her hand around as she looks for the right words, “smaller fidgets.” Nicole watches as Waverly blows at a strand of hair that’s fallen in her eyes, and she drags her chair to sit behind Waverly. She gently runs her fingers through Waverly’s hair and starts braiding it. Waverly hums contently, and Nicole braids slowly, Waverly’s hair like silk between her fingers. 

“I really like your hair,” Nicole mumbles, “it’s really pretty.” She loops an elastic over the end of the braid and presses a kiss to the side of Waverly’s neck. Waverly tilts her head, exposing more of her skin to Nicole’s lips. A trail of soft kisses along the line of her neck, Nicole’s breath tickling at the small baby hairs on the back of Waverly’s neck. 

“You too,” Waverly says, leaning back in her chair and turning her head to meet Nicole’s lips in a lopsided kiss. They linger for only a moment before Doc clears his throat. Waverly jumps back, almost falling out of her seat. His hat is still tipped over his eyes, but Nicole can see his moustachioed smirk. Waverly clears her throat and raises a warning eyebrow at Nicole. 

“So, how about those residential records?” Nicole asks, shuffling her chair back beside Waverly, leaning forward on the table and doing her best to seem interested. 

Waverly clears her throat, nodding at the sheets of parchment in front of her. “There are a few English-American names. It’s not much, but it’s somewhere to start.” 

“So what’s the next step?” Nicole asks, and Waverly shrugs. 

“I’m feeling a little out of my depth here, to be honest,” she says, her shoulders drooping. 

“It’s been a bit of a crazy couple of days,” Nicole tries to comfort her, gently rubbing her back. “Maybe you should take a break, get some serious shut-eye?” 

“No, I need to do this,” Waverly insists, shrugging Nicole’s hand off. It stings, but Nicole tries to keep from taking it too personally. 

“Okay,” Nicole relents, “I’m going to go out and get us some coffees. Can’t hurt to caffeinate a little bit.” She stands and brushes by Waverly, heading for the exit. 

-

Waverly watches Nicole go out of the corner of her eye. 

“I really buggered that up,” she mutters. 

“Nicole is an exceptionally kind woman,” Doc speaks up, shocking Waverly so much she nearly jumps right up into the ceiling. 

“Jesus!” Waverly hisses, pressing a hand to her racing heart. Doc tilts his hat up and offers an apologetic smile. 

“I’m sure she will not hold it against you,” he finishes. “Now, perhaps I can help unblock your thoughts. Tell me what it is you are looking to find.” 

Waverly nods, giving him a thankful smile. “Well, I thought if I could find where a family with a possible connection to the _Iqueue_ ’s treasure was, I might be able to just-just find some sort of lead.” She sighs and drops her head to the table. “I have no idea what I’m doing,” she groans. 

“You and your sister are very alike,” Doc muses. Waverly looks up and waits for him to continue. “Both of you seem to thing you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.” He takes off his hat and tucks his hair behind his ears. “Waverly Earp, you are the brightest young woman I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, and true-born investigator. But no one is expecting you to do all the thinking for us.” 

“You’re pretty smart, too,” Waverly says, and Doc bows his head with a small smile. She lifts her head off her arms and looks at the mess of books and papers before her. “Ugh, I’m going to have to put this all away.” Doc puts his hat back on and waves her off. 

“You rest your feet,” he tells her, “I happen to be quite proficient in numbers and orders.” He winks at her and starts gathering up the papers. 

Waverly leans back in her seat and closes her eyes. She tries to clear her mind just for a few minutes, and she focuses instead on the way Nicole’s fingers felt as they ran through her hair, the gentle way she kisses Waverly. 

“Excuse me, miss?” A voice cuts through her reverie, and Waverly opens her eyes. A man stands in front of her, and Waverly immediately doesn’t like the predatory way he leans on the table. “I couldn’t help but notice that you had taken out a lot of documents from the nineteenth century.”

“Do you work here?” Waverly asks, and the man shakes his head, and Waverly’s eyes dart to the white patch in his beard. 

“I’m just a fellow history enthusiast,” he says with a smile. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and Waverly looks around, really hoping Doc or Nicole will come back soon. “Maybe you can help me out.”

Waverly forces a smile onto her lips, her sweaty hands clenched into fists at her side. “I’m really not an expert or anything,” she says. “You’d be better off asking one of the archivists for help.” 

“They can’t help me,” the man says, leaning forward and grinning at Waverly, teeth bared. “Come now, Miss Earp, let’s stop playing coy.” 

“I-how do you know who I am?” Waverly asks, standing up and stepping back from the table. 

“I suppose you were quite a bit younger the last time we saw each other,” the man says, stroking his beard. “I’m an old friend, Waverly. I knew your daddy.” 

Waverly hears the click of a gun’s safety behind her and she turns to see Doc standing with his pistol drawn, a fierce look on his face. 

“Bobo del Ray,” he spits, “you had best be on your way now.” 

“Hank,” Bobo says with a small bow, “always a pleasure.” 

“Waverly, stand behind me,” Doc orders and Waverly quickly complies. 

“Is that really necessary?” Bobo sighs, and Waverly shrinks at the way he leers at her. “I’m not here for any trouble, just to speak with the girl.” 

“I would no more believe that than I would trust a cornered rattler not to spit,” Doc snarls, and Bobo shakes his head.

“And here I thought we could behave like civilized men, even if only for a minute.” Bobo holds up his hands in surrender and bows his head slightly. “I’ll be on my way, then.” He gives Waverly one last look, and Doc keeps his gun trailed on the retreating man until he’s out of sight. 

“Who the hell was that?” Waverly asks, clasping her shaking hands together. 

“Bobo del Ray,” Doc says, and Waverly doesn’t miss the way his tone drips with animosity. “A devil of a man, and the leader of the Revenant mercenaries.” 

“Wait, that guy is the head honcho of the guys who keep shooting at us?” Waverly sputters. “Why didn’t you shoot him?” 

“Shooting an unarmed man is not how I operate,” Doc says. “We’ll wait for Nicole to return, and then I suggest we get back to Wynonna and Dolls. They should be told about this.” 

“He said he knew my dad,” Waverly says. “Is that true?” 

Doc sighs and adjusts his hat. “That is a question you should ask Wynonna.” 

Waverly opens her mouth to protest, but then Nicole sounds the corner of one of the shelves with a tray of coffees and a dimpled smile. 

“Hey,” she says, handing one of the travel cups to Waverly and another to Doc. “There you go, piping hot.” She smiles at them, her happy expression quickly fading when she notices the tension. “What’s going on?” 

Waverly looks at Doc and takes a sip of her coffee. He clears his throat and puts on a smile. 

“Just disappointed we did not garner more information today,” he says. Waverly nods and loops her arm around Nicole’s. 

“Let’s head out,” she says, “see if Wynonna and Dolls got anything out of their day.” Nicole looks skeptical, but she nods and lets Waverly lead her from the archives.

-

John Henry Holliday likes to think of himself as a reasonable man. He enjoys the simple things in life; a good drink, the company of a beautiful woman, a game of cards. The pursuit of treasure is an added bonus, and the promise of such a fortune is bound to come in handy. He likes the life he gets to lead, free to wander wherever he should choose. Doc believes himself to be of a calm constitution, a cool head.

But if these Earp girls don’t stop arguing in the next minute, he’s going to lose his damn mind. 

It’s been near three-quarters of an hour of Wynonna and Waverly bickering about their next move. Even the Deputy Marshal backed out of the debate, choosing instead to volunteer to go fetch dinner. Doc and Nicole are sitting outside, watching the sisters go at it like a tennis match through the window. 

“Should we do something?” Nicole asks when Waverly starts gesturing frantically at a photocopied page taped into her journal. 

Doc looks at Wynonna’s exasperated face and shrugs. “I try not to get between Wynonna and her prey,” he says. Nicole laughs.

“Thinking that Waverly is anything but another predator is everyone’s first mistake,” Nicole says, and Doc smiles. 

“Miss Haught, you are truly an exceptional young woman,” he compliments her. 

“Call me that when I actually contribute to this trip in any helpful way,” Nicole sighs. “I can’t even be enough help to potentially point them in the right direction.” 

“What is it with you ladies and having to be the best at everything?” Doc says, lighting up a cigarette. “No one person can perfect every discipline there is in life. I may be the fastest draw south of Montana, but I could not create such a thorough history as Waverly. My skills at cards exceed Wynonna’s, but her quick-thinking has saved us much more than my five-card.” He takes a deep drag and blows the smoke out in rings. 

“I just want to help,” Nicole mumbles. 

Doc rolls his eyes and ashes his cigarette. “If you cannot see how much you have already helped this journey, you are not as smart as I thought you were.” He fishes in his pocket and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper, handing it over to Nicole. “Besides,” he says, taking another drag, “I have already figured out where it is we need to go.” Nicole frowns and flattens the paper out. 

“How did you figure this out?” She asks, looking the paper over with a skeptical eye. 

“It’s quite simple,” Doc says, “I just used my knowledge of the stars and their positions. Those poorly drawn charts that you found? Drawn from a southern position. The coordinates should be accurate. Waverly should be able to decipher a more specific location.” 

“How long have you been holding onto this?”

Doc just winks at her and tips his hat up. Nicole shakes her head but Doc doesn’t miss the smile she has on her lips. A loud crash from inside the motel room draws their attention back to the Earps. 

“We should probably cool that situation off,” Nicole says reluctantly. She hands the paper back to Doc. He sighs and stomps out his smoke. 

“Ladies first,” he says, and Nicole elbows him as she passes by and opens the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the rise of the unkillable gay! Nicole, you lucky lesbian, you're immortal in my books. Happy Thrusday, y'all, or whatever day it is where you are, I'm off to get a pizza and become one with my couch. You're all rockstars :)


	10. some long desired thing denied

Manta, Ecuador is beautiful. 

Well, it’s pretty beautiful. 

Okay, maybe the city isn’t as beautiful as Waverly had been expecting, but the water is blue and the sun is out. 

Dolls gets them another houseboat-type-thing, and Waverly is happily lying across the deck, soaking up the sun and stretching her limbs after the plane ride. Nicole is beside her doing pushups and other various exercises that have Waverly unashamedly ogling her over the top of her sunglasses. 

Nicole finishes her set and lies down on her front, her cheek resting on her hands as she looks over at Waverly. 

“You’ve been checking me out,” Nicole says with a smile. Waverly rolls her eyes and pushes her sunglasses down her nose, laughing at the way Nicole’s own eyes are traveling hungrily over Waverly’s exposed skin. 

She pushes herself up onto her elbows. “I think the checking out is mutual,” Waverly says, her voice low. 

Nicole looks around the ship’s deck. “Where’s everyone else?” She asks, slowly scooting closer to Waverly. 

“I think they’re off getting groceries or something,” Waverly mumbles, her eyes flicking down to Nicole’s lips. 

“How long do we have?” Nicole asks, placing her hands on the deck, trapping Waverly’s head between them. 

“Long enough,” Waverly breathes, grabbing at Nicole’s waist, her fingers tangling in the fabric of Nicole’s shirt. Nicole nods, her lips parted as she drags her eyes over Waverly’s face and exposed upper body, the bikini Waverly had thought of as “scandalously modest” now feeling a lot more scandalous. Nicole settles her knees on either side of Waverly’s body and leans down, pressing open-mouthed kisses to Waverly’s collarbone. Waverly whimpers at the feeling, shivers and goosebumps breaking out across her skin despite the hot sun. 

Nicole’s teeth scrape against Waverly’s shoulder, her breath hitting tanned skin in heavy puffs. Waverly tugs at Nicole’s shirt until the woman above her gets the idea and sits up long enough to pull it off. There’s a light sheen of sweat on Nicole’s skin, and Waverly isn’t sure why she suddenly wants to lick it off, but she doesn’t second guess herself, sitting up dragging her tongue across the top of Nicole’s chest. Nicole shudders under her touch and Waverly pulls back with a grin. 

“That was weirdly hot,” Waverly laughs. Nicole laughs too, but she’s quickly pushing Waverly back down, gently pulling her sunglasses off and nibbling lightly at her earlobe. A long whine escapes Waverly’s lips and she tangles her fingers in Nicole’s shorter hair, dragging her head to lock their lips together. They kiss deeply, tongues sliding together. Nicole’s hips press down on Waverly’s. Waverly scratches lightly at Nicole’s stomach. Their breath mingles between them, and Waverly sighs as their lips move together. 

“Have you seen the sleeping cabin yet?” Nicole asks between kisses. Waverly shakes her head, chasing after Nicole’s lips as the redheaded woman pulls back and climbs off of Waverly. Nicole stands and offers a hand to Waverly, helping her to her feet. “Wanna see it now?” Waverly’s heart pounds against her ribs, and she swallows back her nerves, nodding eagerly. Nicole grins and leads her by the hand, through a narrow corridor and down a flight of treacherous stairs. She’s briefly presses up against a door, Nicole’s teeth nipping lightly at her neck, and then the door is opening and shutting behind them. 

They stand in front of each other, and Waverly suddenly feels too exposed in her bathing suit. She crosses her arms over her chest and looks down at her feet. 

A finger lifts her chin and she meets Nicole’s eyes, wide and kind, sending a shiver down Waverly’s spine. 

“Hey,” Nicole says softly, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” She smiles at Waverly, and Waverly feels her nerves start to dissipate. 

“No,” Waverly says, her voice quiet and she pulls her lips together tightly for a second before looking up at Nicole. “I want to.” Nicole’s entire face seems to light up, and Waverly watches as Nicole bites her bottom lip in a smile. 

“Yeah?” Nicole asks. Waverly nods, uncrossing her arms and taking Nicole’s hands in hers. 

“But have you seen the size of these bunks?” Waverly says, nodding her head over at the tiny ship bunks. “Baby, I’m pretty sure you won’t even fit in them.” Nicole laughs and hangs her head. 

“I hate boats,” she sighs, looking at Waverly through her eyelashes. Waverly melts at the smile on Nicole’s lips. “And being tall. Stupid genetics.” 

Waverly rolls her eyes. “I like that you’re tall,” she says, playing with Nicole’s fingers in hers, “means I can climb you like a tree.” Nicole laughs at that and shakes her head, lifting it and kissing Waverly soundly. 

“I like you, Waverly Earp,” Nicole sighs against her lips, planting small kisses on them. Waverly tries to keep up, and they laugh softly together when their kissing turns messy as they start smiling too much. 

“I like you too, Nicole Haught,” Waverly says. Nicole’s smile widens and Waverly kisses it until it fades into heavy breathing and eager lips. She leans into the way Nicole presses her hands against her back, and she feel a little like a harlequin romance novel heroine in the way her back arches and Nicole holds her close. 

Nicole pulls back and whispers into her ear. “If we can’t have sex right now, I’m really going to need you to put more clothes on.” Waverly nods, leaning back. Nicole’s hands fall to rest at her sides, and Waverly immediately misses them. 

“It’s not like you’re decent,” Waverly fires back with a grin. Nicole looks down at her sports bra and tight shorts with a shrug. 

“Are you complaining?” She asks, and Waverly rolls her eyes. 

“Ass,” she mumbles with a grin. Nicole laughs and pulls her back in for a lingering kiss. 

“I’ll let you get changed first,” she mumbles into Waverly’s mouth. Waverly slowly opens her eyes and nods, watching as Nicole slips out of the room, shutting the door behind her. 

Waverly takes a second to calm her heart rate and smooth out her hair. She changes quickly, throwing her hair into a ponytail when she gets tired of trying to manage it. Giving herself one last once over in the mirror, Waverly notices the lovesick smile on her face and tries to shake it. 

She can’t. 

“All yours,” Waverly says as she saunters past Nicole, trailing a hand over her stomach as she brushes by her in the tight hallway. She feels Nicole’s eyes on her the whole way to the stairs, and she sends a flirty wink over her shoulder at the woman who is staring after her with a fond smile. 

-

“Virgo, the virgin,” Doc says as he and Waverly look over the star charts, “and Libra. The scales of balance and justice. Both with latitude's that I have managed to figure out. However, there must be another reason for these two constellations in particular, something beyond navigation. It is quite the challenge to navigate off of only one half of coordinates."

“So what do you think it means?” Waverly asks, resting her chin in her hands. 

Doc shrugs. “You’re the genius here, Waverly, not me,” he says with a smile. 

“Not like I actually figured any of this out,” Waverly mumbles, sighing heavily as she stares at the charts. 

“Waverly, if I may be blunt,” Doc says, and Waverly nods. “Accepting help when you need it is not a weakness. A group’s strength comes from all of its members contributing. I had a similar conversation with Miss Haught.” 

“With Nicole?” Waverly asks. “Why?” 

“That is between myself and the lady,” Doc says, and he pats Waverly’s shoulder. “Chin up, Waverly. Just sit and think about it, I am positive that you’ll come up with something brilliant.” He pushes his chair back and leaves Waverly alone at the table. Waverly huffs and stares down the papers in front of her. 

“Okay, Astrology 1207B, now would be a really good time to start coming in handy,” she whispers. The star charts stare back at her mockingly. “You suck,” she tells them. 

“Rude,” Wynonna says from where she’s just walked in. Waverly looks over at her and shakes her head. 

“Not you,” she says, “the stupid charts.” Wynonna hums and pulls a chair around the table to sit beside Waverly. 

“What am I looking at?” She asks, and Waverly starts to explain. 

“Virgo, the virgin,” she says, tracing her fingers over the ink, “and Libra. Scales for justice, or maybe balance.” 

“I thought scales were a merchant thing,” Wynonna says, furrowing her brow. “Y’know, like how they measured gold and stuff?” 

Waverly frowns. “I mean, it could be? I really don’t know why they chose to draw these particular constellations, they aren’t exceptionally helpful for navigation. The actual drawing parts, the charts I understand, but these sketches? I can’t think of a single purpose.” 

“Okay, so maybe the guy was just crazy?” Wynonna suggests, “Like, he just liked doodling his favourite constellations.” 

“Then why am I bothering to spend any time looking at this crap?” Waverly sighs. Wynonna rubs her back. 

“Because this is what this job is,” Wynonna says and Waverly looks over at her. “Baby girl, when I’m looking for someone or something, I run into a million dead ends before I find the right lead.” 

“A million?” Waverly asks, raising her eyebrows dubiously. 

Wynonna nods vigourously. “Uh huh,” she says, “a million.” Waverly snorts, and Wynonna flicks her shoulder. “Hey, I’m trying to give you a pep talk here, so just-just…okay?” Waverly rolls her eyes but waits for Wynonna to continue. “Look, all I’m trying to say is…don’t let the dead ends get you down. The more you eliminate, the closer you’re getting to the answer.” 

“That…actually makes a lot more sense than I was expecting,” Waverly says, and Wynonna shoves her shoulder. 

“I’m wise,” Wynonna defends with a smile, and Waverly laughs. “Okay, okay, so we know these aren’t for navigational purposes. What about time keeping?” 

“There’s nothing about dates here,” Waverly says, “there are better times to see these constellations, but sketching them like this with no context wouldn’t make sense for calendar-type purposes.” 

Wynonna grabs a pen and a blank sheet of paper. She scribbles down _navigation_ and _calendar_ , then crosses them out. She passes the pen to Waverly and nods at the paper. 

“Write down any possible meaning for them,” she says, “and then we’re going to go through each one and see what we can narrow it down to.” 

Waverly takes the pen and looks curiously at her sister. “I thought you didn’t ‘do’ research?” 

“I just said that so Dolls wouldn’t make me read his boring reports,” Wynonna says in a conspiratorial whisper. Waverly laughs. 

“They are _really_ boring,” she agrees. “Alright, let’s do this.” She squares her shoulders and takes a deep breath, closing her eyes. She opens them and nods, leaning over the table and starting to write. 

-

Nicole ducks as Dolls’ fist swings at her head, and she gets in a quick jab to his ribs. He comes at her with calculated movements, each punch and kick perfectly timed. Nicole deflects a kick aimed at her hip, grabbing his ankle and tugging. Dolls hits the mat and bounces up quickly.

“What’s wrong, secret service?” Nicole taunts with a grin. “Can’t handle a rookie flatfoot?” Dolls scowls at her and comes at her in a flurry of quick punches, landing three successive hits to her barely healed ribs and Nicole winces as she absorbs the blows. She shakes her head and focuses on the way Dolls is prowling around her. 

“Come on, Haught, kick his ass!” Wynonna encourages from her seat on a surrounding table. Nicole shrugs and goes on the offensive, feinting a swing at Dolls’ head and taking advantage of his raised guard to land a sharp punch to his gut. Dolls retaliates, and Nicole darts around him, kicking out at the back of his knees. Dolls staggers and whirls around. 

“Woo! Girl power!” Waverly cheers from beside her sister, and Nicole grins at her. 

And then Dolls punches her square in the face. Her still bruised nose shoots pain all through her face and she drops to her knees, clutching at her face. 

“Shit, Dolls,” Wynonna says, and Waverly hops off the table, rushing to Nicole’s side. She gently pries Nicole’s hands from her face and holds Nicole’s face in her hands. 

“You have to learn to cover your weaknesses,” Dolls says. “You had your guard all on your body, and your face was completely exposed.” 

“Still,” Wynonna says as Waverly carefully checks Nicole’s face, “it’s a bit of a dick move. She literally just got beat up by mercenaries like, a week ago.” 

Dolls shrugs. “No one we run into is going to give us any leeway. We need to train for it.” 

Nicole tunes out their bickering and instead focuses on the gentle way Waverly is stroking her cheeks and the concerned way she’s staring into her eyes. 

“You okay?” Waverly asks, smoothing some of Nicole’s sweaty hair back from her forehead. 

Nicole nods. “He doesn’t hit that hard,” she says, her heart skipping a beat when Waverly giggles. Waverly traces her finger over the bridge of Nicole’s nose and Nicole hisses in pain. 

“Not fine,” she scolds, and Nicole rolls her eyes. “I’m going to get you some ice, okay?” Nicole nods, gratefully accepting Waverly’s help in standing. Waverly makes her sit next to Wynonna and then goes to find an ice pack. 

“Alright, Deputy Marshal,” Wynonna is saying, “get ready to get your ass totally owned.” Nicole watches with amusement as Wynonna hops off the table and rolls her neck. She stretches out her arms and cracks her knuckles. Waverly comes back with an icepack and she slaps Nicole’s hands away, holding it to Nicole’s nose. 

“Alright, Earp,” Dolls says, “show me what you got.” 

“Oh great,” Waverly sighs. Wynonna steps onto the mat and gets into a rather unconventional fighting stance. 

It takes about five seconds for Dolls to have Wynonna flat on her back. 

“Sloppy,” he says. Wynonna gets on her feet and shakes her limbs out. They go again. Nicole isn’t sure where Wynonna learned to fight, but she falls into each of Dolls’ holds, and Waverly winces as Dolls stomps after a rolling Wynonna. 

“This feels rigged,” Wynonna says after she’s acrobatically leapt to her feet. 

Dolls gets her in a hold. “Dead.” Wynonna spins out of it and lands a few hits until she’s back in Dolls’ grip. “Dead.” It goes on like this for a while, their moves getting faster and harder. Dolls slams Wynonna to the ground with a sharp hit to her back. 

“ _Fuuuuck_ ,” Wynonna groans into the mat. Dolls kneels beside her. 

“Find my weakness,” he instructs, and Wynonna makes a grab his ankles that he jumps over. 

“Ice cream? The Clippers? Thongs?” Wynonna jibes as she gets to her feet.

Dolls ignores her and kicks out. Wynonna deflects it and tries to flip him with an arm to his neck. Nicole hisses as Waverly accidentally presses the ice into her face too hard. Wynonna gets Dolls right where she seems to want him, and sends him sprawling with a hard hit to his sternum. He falls back with a loud grunt, panting hard. 

Wynonna’s face lights up with glee and she cheer as she does a victory dance around his body. “Say my name, bitch!” She says, leaning down and pointing finger guns in his face. Dolls slaps her hands away and she laughs, dancing over to the water cooler and grabbing a drink. Dolls gets up and Nicole thinks she sees him smile. 

That’s new.

“Good job, Earp,” he says, and Nicole almost falls off the table in shock. Wynonna winks at him over her shoulder. Dolls turns to Waverly and waves her over. 

“Oh, uh, I’m alright, thank you,” Waverly says with a smile. 

“You have to learn how to defend yourself,” Dolls says. “We can’t be keeping an eye on you and an eye on the enemy.” 

Waverly looks at Wynonna for back up, but her sister just shrugs. “I’m with him, Waves,” Wynonna says. Nicole takes the icepack from Waverly’s hands and gently pushes her off the table. Waverly steps onto the mat and puts her hands up. Dolls squares up with her. 

“You know, I took self-defence classes before I moved to the city,” Waverly says as she and Dolls circle each other. “Go for the groin, put your keys between your knuckles, I’m all caught up.” 

“Focus, Waverly,” Dolls says. He takes a few slow swings at her, and she dodges them easily. Wynonna comes over and offers Nicole a paper cup of water, and they drink slowly as they watch Dolls warm Waverly up. 

Soon they’re moving more quickly, and Nicole is composing a thank-you letter to the perv who invented leggings and crop tops. Waverly’s muscles are moving and flexing in the most delicious ways, and Nicole crushes the empty paper cup in her hand when Waverly drops into a low crouch and sweeps at Dolls’ legs with her left leg extended. Dolls stumbles but doesn’t fall, and soon they’re facing off again, catching their breath for a brief moment. 

“Also I was enrolled in krav mama for three years,” Waverly says, and Nicole grins. “It’s been a while, but I think I remember most of it.” 

Dolls sets his jaw and suddenly he’s coming at Waverly fast, forcing her to duck and dodge twice as fast as before. He gets her in a complicated hold and she falls to the ground. 

“Don’t overestimate yourself,” he says. Waverly huffs and stands. “Use your size to your advantage.” Waverly nods, and Nicole watches as she focuses on ducking and dipping around Dolls’ blows. She lets his weight force his follow-throughs to be sloppy, and she lands a few blows to his back. “Good,” Dolls praises. He holds up his hands and points at Wynonna. 

“What?” She says. “I’ve already proven myself to be of great skill.” 

“Prove it again,” Dolls says. “It’s easier to tell you what you’re doing wrong when I’m watching.” Wynonna huffs but steps to the mat and faces up with Waverly. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Waverly says, and Wynonna scoffs. 

“Please,” she says, “mama came to play.” Waverly shrugs and they start to spar. Nicole can tell that Wynonna is going easy on her little sister, deflecting fists and feet but never really making a serious offensive move. 

“Earp, stop messing around and hit your sister!” Dolls says. 

Wynonna tenses. Waverly purses her lips and nods at Wynonna. Nicole can’t help but think she’s missing something. Wynonna shakes out her shoulders and lands a hit to Waverly’s side, pulling her into an arm-lock, twisting her shoulder and sweeping her feet out from under her. Waverly falls with a groan, getting to her feet quickly. 

It goes on like for a while. Waverly trying to find an opening, Wynonna trapping her and dropping her to the ground. 

“Find her weakness, Waverly,” Dolls instructs. Waverly narrows her eyes and waits for Wynonna to go n the offensive. She dodges her swings and dashes behind her. Wynonna whirls around, trying to land a roundhouse kick the Waverly’s shoulder. Waverly grabs her legs and twists, sending Wynonna to the ground in an impressive twirl. Wynonna hits the mat with a thump. 

“Shit!” Waverly says, leaning down to see if Wynonna’s alright. Wynonna grabs Waverly and pulls her down into tight hold, and they wrestle on the ground for a bit. Eventually Wynonna pins Waverly and she playfully gives her little sister a wet willy. Waverly shoves her off of her and they lie beside each other. 

“Good fight, baby girl,” Wynonna says, reaching over to high-five Waverly. Waverly slaps her palm to Wynonna’s and stares up at the ceiling. 

“Maybe I can get some sticks to hit you with or something,” Waverly says through her heavy breathing. Wynonna laughs. 

“Not a bad start,” Dolls says. “If someone could convince Doc that he also needs to go through training, that would be great.” He stands up and looks at the two sisters on the mat with what Nicole might almost call a fond almost-smile. “Same time tomorrow, Earps.” He looks back at Nicole and her ice pack with a calculating eye. “Haught…heal up.” He pats her awkwardly on the shoulder and leaves the room.

Nicole watches him go, feeling like she’s gone into shock. 

“He’s being weirdly nice,” Waverly says, voicing Nicole’s feelings. 

“Don’t question it, just accept it,” Wynonna says, pushing herself to her feet. “Oh, god, I’m going to be _very_ sore in a few hours.” She helps Waverly up and taps her on the butt. Waverly rolls her eyes but Nicole can see the smile on her lips. 

“Any chance Doc will ever get in the training ring?” Waverly asks her as Wynonna grabs her shoes and heads to the door. 

Wynonna laughs. “Only thing I can imagine convincing him is that he gets to punch Dolls in the face.” 

“That’s why I joined in,” Nicole quips from the table and Wynonna gives her a thumbs up. 

“Alright nerds, I’m going to hit the shower,” Wynonna says. “Good work, Waves.” Waverly smiles after her sister, and when the door shuts she bounces over to Nicole. 

“That was fun,” she says, moving to stand between Nicole’s legs, her hands hot on Nicole’s thighs. 

“Mhm,” Nicole agrees, “it’s a decent spectator sport.” Waverly laughs and presses a light kiss to Nicole’s lips. Her nose bumps against Nicole’s, and the redhead inhales sharply at the pain. “Sorry,” Waverly winces, pulling back and smiling apologetically at Nicole. 

“It’s alright,” Nicole assures her, “just a little tender.”    


“My poor baby,” Waverly coos, and Nicole smiles. “Come on, let’s get showered and see if we can find something to eat. All that ass-kicking has made me hungry.” 

-

Waverly is using Nicole as a human pillow as they lounge in the common area. She’s leaning back against Nicole’s chest, reading a thick book on something that Nicole didn’t catch the name of. Nicole is happy just relaxing, the smell of Waverly’s shampoo drifting through the air, her body firm and warm against Nicole’s. 

“Do you think the drawings could have been an early game of Pictionary?” Waverly sighs, and Nicole cracks her eyes open.

“What?” She says, nuzzling her cheek against Waverly’s. 

“I’m trying to figure out what the drawings mean,” Waverly says, and Nicole starts to read the paper that Waverly’s propped up inside the book. “Wynonna suggested I list all possible uses and then eliminate them one by one until the answer is the only one left.” 

Nicole hums and tries to suppress a laugh at the next word she reads. “Porn?”

Waverly closes the book and twists around, giving Nicole a frown. “Virgo’s boobs are out.” 

“You’re right, it’s totally hot,” Nicole teases her and Waverly flicks her forehead. “Ow, harsh.” 

“You’re annoying,” Waverly says, dropping the book on the floor and leaning back against Nicole’s chest, grabbing her hands and wrapping Nicole’s arms around her. “But you’re comfy.” Nicole hums into her ear and places a soft kiss to the side of her head. 

“So what’s your number one idea for the drawings?” Nicole asks, her lips brushing the shell of Waverly’s ear. 

Waverly sighs, leaning into Nicole. “I was really hoping it was just a doodle, honestly.” Nicole kisses her ear and Waverly laces their fingers together. “But I just feel like it _has_ to mean something.” 

“You’ll figure it out, baby,” Nicole murmurs into her ear, and Waverly smiles. 

“Thank you,” she mumbles, turning her head and kissing Nicole softly. Their lips part and Waverly looks at the fading bruising on Nicole’s face. “You’re feeling better?” 

Nicole nods, kissing Waverly again. It’s tender and everything Waverly thought she would never have. Waverly’s breath leaves her in a soft sigh, their lips moving together slowly. 

“I could do that forever,” Waverly breathes when Nicole pulls back to change the angle of the kiss. Nicole hums an agreement and Waverly twists around so she’s lying front-down on Nicole, their chests pressed together. Nicole’s hands rest lightly on the small of Waverly’s back and their legs tangle together. They trade soft kisses, lips barely touching sometimes. Waverly brushes her tongue against Nicole’s lip briefly, and Nicole responds with a light, teasing nip to Waverly’s bottom lip. 

“Do you think we could stay here forever?” Nicole asks, and Waverly opens her eyes. “Just in this moment, no people shooting at us, no federal agents punching us,” Nicole’s eyes open slowly and she looks into Waverly’s, “just you and me?” 

It feels too big to fit in Waverly’s heart, but it _fits_ somehow, and she’s nodding, pulling Nicole’s face to hers and kissing her so that they both feel it down to their toes. Nicole whimpers into Waverly’s mouth, and it sounds more beautiful than any music Waverly’s ever heard. Strong hands slide under Waverly’s shirt and smooth over her shoulders, fingertips pressing into tight muscles. 

Waverly pulls away and nudges Nicole’s chin up with her nose, leaving a trail of firm kisses on a pale neck. She sucks lightly on the skin below Nicole’s pulse, her fingers gently stroking down the other side of Nicole’s neck. Nicole smells like generic brand soap and a hint of vanilla that Waverly’s started to associate with the woman underneath her. 

Nicole’s hands run through Waverly’s hair and push it behind Waverly’s shoulder. Waverly looks up, and Nicole smiles. “Hair in my nose,” she explains, and Waverly nods knowingly. “Don’t stop, do your thing,” Nicole encourages her, gently pushing Waverly’s head back to her neck. Waverly laughs breathily and bites down on the crook of Nicole’s neck. 

Nicole moans and Waverly grins, scraping her teeth across soft skin. 

“You like that?” Waverly asks, her voice an airy moan in Nicole’s ear. Nicole swallows audibly and nods. Waverly tugs on Nicole’s earlobe with her teeth, increasing pressure until a loud moan cracks out of Nicole’s throat. Waverly releases Nicole’s ear and leans back, smiling at the way Nicole’s lips are parted and her eyes are shut. “Biting, huh?” Waverly asks, a teasing lilt to her tone. 

Nicole opens one of her eyes and scrunches her nose up at the delighted look on Waverly’s face. “Don’t look so smug,” she says, “I’m sure I can find things out about you, too.” 

“Please, be my guest,” Waverly says, and Nicole grips her waist and pulls her into a searing kiss.

-

Wynonna and Waverly stand side by side in front of the massive church, both looking up at the tall steeple. 

“You’re sure about this?” Wynonna asks, and Waverly nods. 

“It’s built over the catacombs of a colonial-era church,” Waverly says. “We just need to get into the basement and see what if we can find any clues that might point to the _Iqueue_ ’s looters stopping here.” 

They enter the church, Wynonna letting out a low whistle at the tall archways. It’s a modern church, although the interior is almost neo-classical in style. Waverly leads Wynonna to the front of the church, their steps echoing loudly. They give an awkward head nod to an old woman who is sitting in a pew who keeps sending them withering looks. Wynonna almost knocks over a tall candelabra, and Waverly has to catch it before it clatters to the floor. 

“Okay, there should be basement access through those stairs,” Waverly says, pointing at a door that is visible at the back of the chancel. Wynonna sidles up to the gate that separates the chancel and the nave. She rattles the door, giving Waverly a shake of her head when she finds it locked. 

Wynonna looks around the relatively empty church and kneels in front of the door. “Waves, cover me.” She pulls out a small bundle from her pocket and procures two thin tools. 

“Wynonna,” Waverly hisses, “I think picking a lock in a _church_ is frowned upon!” 

“As if I’m not already going to hell,” Wynonna hisses back. “Stop being such a wet blanket.” Waverly huffs but turns to watch Wynonna’s back. Her foot taps anxiously on the floor, but soon there’s a click and Wynonna is standing, pushing the door open and waving Waverly through. “You’re welcome,” Wynonna sing-songs, and Waverly shoves her shoulder as she passes by. 

Wynonna closes the door behind them and they hurry to the stairs. That door swings open easily, if not a little loudly, and Waverly clicks on her shoulder light. The stairs descend in a spiral, the air growing colder the deeper they get. At the bottom of the steps is another door, this one older and the doorway shorter. Waverly grins at Wynonna and muscles it open.

“Well this is extraordinarily creepy,” Wynonna whispers into the darkness. The beams from their flashlights illuminate walls lined with stone archways. Each archway has a different symbol above it, all of them following the same morbid theme of skulls and ravens. 

“Crypts,” Waverly says. Wynonna makes a face, and together they walk down the low-ceilinged passageway. “You know, the word ‘crypt’ evolved from an alternate Latin word for vault.” 

“Neat,” Wynonna says, casting her beam over the tops of the archways. “So what are we looking for?” 

Waverly shrugs. “Anything familiar. This is sort of a shot in the dark.” 

There’s a splash and Wynonna curses. “Yeah, so I guess there are puddles in here,” she gags. “Yuck.” She shakes her foot off as Waverly keeps walking, inspecting the symbols. A skull with a raven perched on it, a skull with wings. 

“Death isn’t very original,” Waverly mumbles. “Come on, give me something.” She passes the light over a few more skulls and birds, Wynonna catching up with her and complaining about her sock being wet. 

“How is there even water down here?” Wynonna is grumbling when Waverly’s light hits a symbol that causes her to stop and smile. Wynonna bumps into her and frowns. “Dude, fix your brake lights.” 

“I think we found something,” Waverly says with an elbow to Wynonna’s stomach. She nods up at the symbol and Wynonna sighs, looking up at it. 

“Oh shit,” the older Earp breathes. 

“Rapiers and the scales of balance,” Waverly says, her smile going ear to ear. 

“AKA our good friend Libra,” Wynonna fills in, and Waverly nods. “Well, let’s not keep our friend waiting any long than he already has been.” Wynonna takes the lead, ducking her head under the archway. Waverly follows suit, and her heart is beating so fast that she presses two fingers to her pulse, taking deep breaths to try and slow it down. 

The vault is small, barely enough room for the two of them to stand side by side, and the ceiling is low enough that even Waverly has to duck her head. There’s a wooden coffin tucked into an alcove at the end of the room. 

“So…I guess we have to open the coffin?” Wynonna clarifies, and Waverly swallows nervously. 

“Guess so,” she says. Wynonna exhales slowly, taking a step forward before shaking her head and stepping back.

“Nope, this isn’t on me,” she says, holding her hands up. “I’ll shoot living dudes, but don’t make me into a grave-robber.” 

“What happened to ‘I’m already going to hell’?” Waverly grumbles as she slides by Wynonna and stares at the coffin. 

“Change of heart,” Wynonna says, “maybe standing on this holy ground has given me new perspective.” 

“Or maybe you’re just a wuss,” Waverly says. Wynonna doesn’t dignify that with a response, and so Waverly takes a deep breath, casting her eyes up and quickly crossing herself. Then, with considerable effort, she shoves the lid of the coffin until it falls to the dirt floor with a loud thud. Waverly peers into the coffin and Wynonna hovers over her shoulder. 

“This guy could really use a good dermatologist,” Wynonna says, her voice wobbly and she leans back. “Ugh, that is so gnarly.” Waverly swallows back her own disgust and scans the contents of the coffin slowly. 

The mostly-decomposed remains of the dead man, scraps of cloth that would have been his clothing. Waverly grimaces as she reaches in and flips him onto his side. 

“Oh god I can hear his bones _rattling_ ,” Wynonna gags. 

“Can you stop making this so disgusting, please?” Waverly scolds. “I’m the one with my hand on the corpse.” She feels around the bottom of the coffin. “Come on, you stupid old thief,” she mutters, “just give me any hint that I’m on the right track.” 

Her fingers bump against something cold and textured. She fumbles for a second before closing her hand around a circular object. Carefully, she pulls her hand back and opens her fist, revealing a shiny gold doubloon with crossed rapiers stamped onto it. 

“Bingo,” Waverly says, holding it up to show Wynonna. She tosses it over and Wynonna catches it, stumbling and falling back into the wall behind her. 

And then she’s falling through the wall and landing on her ass in a pile of dust and broken stone. 

“Wynonna!” Waverly yells in surprise, hurrying to offer her sister a hand. 

“I’m good, I’m good,” Wynonna says, taking Waverly’s hand, hitting her head on the ceiling when she stands. “Fuck.” She rubs at the top of her head and steps by Waverly back into the corridor. Waverly inspects the hole Wynonna just created, frowning at the measured way the stone collapsed. Almost like it was built that way, with that specific weak point in mind. 

Waverly starts digging through the rubble, tossing bits of rock behind her. 

“What are you doing?” Wynonna asks, poking her head back into the vault. “We got the proof we needed.” 

Waverly ignores her and keeps digging. She digs until she feels something much softer than rock, and she emerges from the vault with a triumphant smile. 

“Let dead men tell their tales,” Waverly says as she waves the book in the air, and she twirls by Wynonna back to the staircase. Wynonna laughs, shoving the doubloon into her pocket and following her sister up the stairs. 

-

Nicole takes a ragged breath as Waverly nips at the skin above the waistband of her jeans. 

“I think you and Dolls have different definitions of ‘go get the research materials’,” Nicole gasps as Waverly kisses her way back up Nicole’s body, pulling her shirt up as she goes. 

“I’m in a good mood,” Waverly says, grabbing the back of Nicole’s neck and pulling her into a rough kiss, teeth and tongues clashing. Nicole holds Waverly by the waist and tries to push her back a little bit, the burning in her belly growing with every second. 

“I’m very happy you’re in a good mood,” Nicole says, “but I’m not sure how long it’ll last if Dolls has us executed for holding up a Federal investigation.” Waverly shushes her and keeps kissing her, sliding her hands up and down Nicole’s torso. Nicole whimpers and leans into the touch, her own hands drifting down to cup Waverly’s ass. Waverly moans, loud and cutting in the silence of the cargo hold, and it sends shivers through Nicole’s body. 

“Baby,” Waverly breathes against Nicole’s lips, and Nicole nods. She bends down a little and grips the backs of Waverly’s thighs, lifting her up. Waverly locks her legs around Nicole’s waist, curling into her body and using the high angle to explore Nicole’s mouth more deeply. Nicole presses Waverly into the wall, and they kiss desperately. 

“One of these days, I’m going to get you into a proper bed,” Nicole groans as Waverly bites at her neck. Waverly laughs, and Nicole slowly lowers her before she completely loses her mind. 

“And you’re still one hundred percent set on the whole doing it ‘right’ thing?” Waverly asks as her feet touch the ground, her fingers scratching at the back of Nicole’s neck. Nicole leans down, their foreheads pressing together. Waverly traces the line of Nicole’s jaw, her fingers brushing over parted lips. 

“Still set,” Nicole sighs, and Waverly pouts. 

“Boo.” She drops her hands and steps past Nicole, grabbing one of the boxes they came down to the hold for in the first place. “Well, I guess we’d better get back up there. Don’t want to keep Dolls waiting.” Nicole watches in a daze as Waverly saunters out the door. 

“That girl is going to be the death of me,” Nicole mumbles to herself, grabbing the other box and hefting it back up to the common area. 

Waverly is already sat on the couch next to her sister, rifling through the box and pulling out pieces of paper, handing them off to Dolls. Dolls looks each page over, either handing them back to Waverly or putting them down on the table in front of them. Nicole puts her box down in front of Waverly and sits on her other side, draping an arm around the back of the couch, her fingers brushing Waverly’s shoulder teasingly. 

“Okay gang,” Waverly says, clapping her hands together, “we’re going to have a long night of research, but we’re going to make it fun!” 

Nicole smiles fondly, and she can’t even bother to feel embarrassed by the lovestruck expression she knows she’s got on her face. Waverly keeps talking, explaining roles and something about brownies and party hats, and Nicole can’t take her eyes off of her. She’s magnetic, pulling Nicole in deeper with every wave of her hands, every excited bob of her head. It lights a warm fire in Nicole’s chest, and it burns softly and steadily. 

Suddenly Nicole is being handed a book and Waverly is giving her a bright smile. “You got this?” Waverly asks, and Nicole just nods.

“Sure thing,” she says, and then she looks down at the book. “But, uh, maybe you could go over my instructions one more time?” 

Waverly rolls her eyes but smiles and scoots closer, tucking herself into Nicole’s side a little too closely to be considered friendly, and she walks Nicole through the book step by step.

“So who’s gonna do your part, baby girl?” Wynonna asks, thumbing through a stack of loose papers. 

Waverly looks over at her and shrugs. “Figure it out.” Nicole smirks, breathing in deeply as Waverly leans back in and getting a large whiff of Waverly’s intoxicating shampoo and perfume, something she can’t believe the younger girl lugged across all that terrain. 

“What, are you two like best friends now?” Wynonna grumbles, and Nicole freezes. Waverly looks over at her sister and rolls her eyes. Dolls starts coughing, hiding his face behind his hand, and Nicole would think he was laughing if she didn’t any better. 

“Get back to work,” Waverly says, and Nicole winks at Wynonna. 

“What ever happened to good, old fashioned nepotism?” Wynonna complains, but she starts going through the papers she has anyways. 

The research party lasts all night. Waverly somehow keeps a steady stream of snacks coming, and Nicole convinces her to give the non-reading based assignments to her. She also manages to get Waverly to sneak off no less than five times.

Somewhere in hour six, Waverly jumps to her feet and rushes to the timeline they’d set up on the far wall. 

“What is it, Waves?” Wynonna asks, watching as Waverly scans the timeline intently. 

“Dolls, do you have the 1765 nautical map?” Waverly asks. Dolls nods, walking over and handing it to her. “Doc, the mining records from both journals?” 

“On the table, darlin’,” Doc says through a yawn. Waverly and Dolls move to the table. and Waverly lays the map out, grabbing a piece of paper and copying out the charts from the journals. Nicole props her head up in her hand, watching and loving how Waverly’s forehead crinkles in the middle, her jaw set and her eyes narrowed. 

“God, I’m such an idiot,” Waverly says, leaning back and crossing her arms. “Guys, these weren’t mining records at all! I mean, the numbers don’t make any sense in terms of actual quantities of ore, _god_ I’m such an idiot!” 

“So what are we looking at, code?” Dolls says, leaning down over the table and reading Waverly’s hastily scribbled notes. 

“Coordinates,” Waverly says with a shake of her head, “they’re coordinates. I mean, rough and old coordinates that are almost arbitrary in their accuracy, but they’re coordinates. Doc, you had determined latitude, but these are actual coordinates!” 

“So where are the spots they outline?” Dolls asks, and Waverly grabs a bunch of thumbtacks. 

“Nic, help me put this up,” Waverly instructs, and Nicole hauls herself to her feet. She follows Waverly’s instructions, tacking the map to the wall and trying to contain the gay when Waverly dances her fingers across the skin of Nicole’s back that gets exposed as she stretches up. “Thanks, baby,” Waverly whispers to Nicole as she puts up the final tack. Nicole smiles at her and barely keeps herself from leaning down and kissing Waverly senseless.

Nicole goes back to sit on the couch as Waverly starts pinpointing coordinates, and Wynonna looks at Nicole curiously. 

“What?” Nicole asks, looking at the older Earp with a confused expression. 

Wynonna tilts her head, regarding Nicole intently for a moment before shrugging. “Nothing.” 

Nicole frowns, but returns her eyes to Waverly. Her heart beats a little harder when she watches Waverly reaching up to push a tack into the wall, her muscles moving like liquid under the skin exposed by her shirt, and Nicole unconsciously licks her lips. 

“How long is this going to take, Earp?” Dolls asks from where he’s sitting on the edge of the table. 

Waverly shoots him a scathing look. “There are like, four different possibilities for each set of numbers. I’m working as fast as I can, Deputy Marshal.” She grabs a red marker and uncaps it with her teeth, circling different areas of the map.

Dolls nods and backs up, and Nicole smirks at the idea of the big bad government agent being scared of the pint of a girl that Waverly Earp is. 

“I need a smoke,” Doc sighs. He grabs his hat and heads outside, the cool night air rushing in as the doors open and close, washing over Nicole’s bare toes, causing her to shiver a little. 

“I need a nap,” Wynonna groans, stretching out along the couch, her legs thumping heavily into Nicole’s lap. Nicole tries to shove them off, but Wynonna is shockingly heavy and Nicole eventually gives up. 

“Let’s just reconvene in the morning,” Dolls says, “we could all use the rest.” 

“I’m good here,” Wynonna mumbles, and Nicole gives one hard shove, rolling her off the couch and onto the floor. 

“Oops,” she says with a shrug. Wynonna glares up at her and heaves herself to her feet, giving Nicole the finger. 

“Watch your back, Haught,” Wynonna says as she exits the room. Nicole rolls her eyes and stretches her legs out in front of her, moaning at the feeling of her cramped muscles expanding. Waverly turns and looks at her, and Nicole feels a rush of heat to her stomach at the look in Waverly’s eyes. 

“Get some rest, you two,” Dolls instructs as he leaves, and Waverly nods, putting the tacks and marker down on the table with her notes, waiting until the door is closed to climb into Nicole’s lap, tucking stray hairs behind Nicole’s ears and kissing her. 

“You’re hot when you go all ‘beautiful mind’,” Nicole says, stroking the small of Waverly’s back. 

“Oh really?” Waverly says, sliding her fingers into Nicole’s hair and tugging her into a series of hot kisses, parted lips slipping on tongues and breathy whimpers escaping their throats. “Next time I give a guest lecture in an intro class, I’ll invite you and see if that still holds true,” she teases Nicole, her hands sliding down the side of Nicole’s neck. 

“I bet all your students have a crush on you,” Nicole says between short kisses. “They probably go home and just _rave_ about their hot history TA.” 

Waverly laughs, the noise quickly devolving into a moan as Nicole sucks on her bottom lip. Nicole’s hands drift up Waverly’s back and she teasingly snaps Waverly’s bra strap. Waverly squeaks and pulls out of the kiss, scolding Nicole with one look. Nicole kisses it away, and Waverly melts into her touch. 

“Dude,” Nicole says in a fake bro accent, “my TA’s body is _ridonkulous_. She’s totally _bangin’_ , bro, I _so_ wanna tap that.” Waverly laughs, burying her face in the crook of Nicole’s neck. Nicole strokes her hair and continues, “Like dude, she _totally_ thinks I’m smokin’, she gave me a Bminus on my last paper. What a _babe_.”

“Oh my god,” Waverly laughs, “you’re ridiculous.” Nicole snorts and nuzzles into Waverly’s hair.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never gotten a note from a lovestruck undergrad,” Nicole teases her, pressing small kisses to the shell of Waverly’s ear. 

Waverly leans back and captures Nicole’s lips with her own, biting at Nicole’s bottom lip and soothing the sting with her tongue. “Not even one,” she says before slipping her tongue between Nicole’s lips and tracing a line along the roof of Nicole’s mouth. 

Nicole sucks lightly on Waverly’s tongue before releasing it and stroking her thumb over Waverly’s bottom lip. “Good,” she says lowly, “I don’t like sharing.” 

Waverly shudders and tilts her head back as Nicole kisses her neck, sucking and biting lightly at the smooth skin. “That’s very caveman of you,” Waverly gasps, holding Nicole’s head in place with her fingers tangled in red hair. 

“I’m an old fashioned girl,” Nicole rasps as she kisses just behind Waverly’s ear, her hand moving to press just under Waverly’s breast. 

“Sure you are,” Waverly breathes, arching into the touch. Nicole hums into her skin, pulling away and leaving a lingering kiss on Waverly’s lips 

“We should go to bed,” she sighs, and Waverly pouts. “Put that away, it’s three in the morning,” Nicole laughs, tapping Waverly’s pouty bottom lip with her index finger. Waverly sighs but climbs off Nicole’s lap. 

“Fine,” she says. “Come on, we should grab the bathroom before Wynonna uses all the hot water.” Nicole laughs and together they make their way down to the sleeping quarters. 

“You know something?” Nicole says as they grab their toiletry bags. Waverly looks at her curiously with her toothbrush sticking out of her mouth. Nicole can’t speak through her smile for a second, but she clears her throat and finishes her thought. “When I decided to go traveling, I was really looking forward to being alone and finding myself.”

“I guess we sort of buggered that up for you, huh?” Waverly says, her elbow bumping Nicole’s as they stand in front of the sink. 

Nicole shrugs, meeting Waverly’s eyes in the mirror. “I found you instead,” she says with a shy smile. “Not a bad trade.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one felt like it got away from me a little bit, but I thought I'd just run with that and see where it took me! Your comments and kudos are appreciated more than you know! Now that we've passed the halfway point, the updates might slow down just a little, plus we're reaching that time of year where school and life all hit a peak and things get a little crazy. You're all fantastic and your feedback is a million percent appreciated! :)


	11. that one, was wild as the seas

Nicole knocks back another peppermint shot, wincing when Wynonna claps her on the back. 

“Atta girl, Haught,” Wynonna slurs. “Another round!” 

“This is how I die,” Nicole groans, but she downs the next shot heroically, slamming the glass down when she empties it. 

“No, my naive little Nicole,” Wynonna says, shaking her head, “this is how you _live_.” Nicole takes a long sip of her beer, wishing Waverly was here to rein her sister in. 

But no, Waverly and Dolls had gone to the archives once again and Doc had vanished in a characteristic puff of smoke. Which left Nicole and Wynonna to kill time together. And, as it turns out, the only way Wynonna Earp knows how to kill time is in a bar. 

“So,” Wynonna says, gesturing at the barkeeper for another round, “how are you enjoying the adventurer life?” 

“It’s a lot less parkour than I was expecting,” Nicole says, her stomach turning at the smell of the rum that gets poured in front of her. 

“Oh, you’ll get your fair shot at parkour,” Wynonna assures her with a wink, and she lifts her shot to clink it against Nicole’s. 

“Hated that,” Nicole hisses, grabbing desperately for her beer to chase the taste. 

“When Doc and I were running a job in Indonesia,” Wynonna begins, burping into her elbow for a second before recovering, “we had to escape these _really_ angry mob guys.” At Nicole’s disbelieving expression, Wynonna nods emphatically. “Yeah, there’s an Indonesian mob, Nicole, get your head outta your ass.” 

“Sorry,” Nicole says, holding her hands up. 

“Damn straight,” Wynonna says, hitting her fist on the bar top. “Anyway, the only way to get away from them involved five kilometres of rooftops and scaling buildings.” 

“Wynonna, I’ve seen you fall off a chair trying to reach the top shelf in the galley,” Nicole says, rolling her eyes. 

Wynonna frowns at her and chugs back half a pint. “Like you’re one to talk,” she retorts, “Just yesterday you tripped over the flat deck and fell right into a pile of camouflage netting.” 

Nicole blushes, the memory of Waverly doing a _very_ bendy yoga routine playing out in her mind. She’d bent over to touch her toes just as Nicole was coming outside and she’d taken a fantastically gay tumble into the aforementioned netting. 

“Yeah, well,” Nice mumbles, taking a drink to avoid having to justify herself. “Hey, so when are you going to tell me why those Revenant guys are constantly chasing us and shooting at us?” 

Wynonna looks at her over the top of her pint glass with narrowed eyes. “I don’t know if I trust you yet, narc.” 

Nicole huffs and drains her beer. She waves the barkeeper down. “Another pitcher, and four shots of tequila, please.” When the barkeeper returns with the alcohol, Wynonna reaches for two of the shots but Nicole slaps her hand away. Nicole takes the four shots in quick succession, sucking on a piece of lime at the end of the fourth, grimacing the whole time. 

“Jesus,” Wynonna gasps. Nicole takes a deep breath and fixes the other woman with the same stubborn look that got her a place on the Little League all-boys fast-pitch team. 

“You can trust me,” she says, pouring Wynonna’s next pint. 

Wynonna laughs, but she accepts the pint and nods. “Alright, Haught. I’ll tell you the story, but it’s real long and if at any point you puke on me, I’m going to kill you. Slowly. These pants are leather.” 

“Fair enough,” Nicole says, blinking to try and make the room stop swirling. “Hey, real quick, any chance we could move to somewhere with seats that have backs?” She sways dangerously on the barstool and Wynonna snorts. 

“Sure thing, lightweight,” she says, helping Nicole off the stool and finding a booth in the back corner of the bar. 

Nicole slides into her seat ungracefully, steadying herself before sitting up straight and giving Wynonna her most sober face.   


“Go ‘head, Earp,” Nicole says, wincing at the way her voice slurs. 

“When Doc and I first started working together, he was on the run from this group called the Stone Corporation,” Wynonna says. “I still don’t know what he did, but that entire corporation collapsed within the next year. Doc thought he was free of them, and so we took bounty-hunting jobs, treasure hunting, whatever people would pay us for.” Wynonna fills her glass and takes a long drink. “It went really smoothly for about four years, until we took a job for an anonymous client. The short of it goes like this: Tokyo Drift, Doc lost his hat, miraculous rescue, and now we owe Constance Clootie either our lives, or three million dollars.” 

Nicole spits our her sip of beer, spraying Wynonna in the face. “Three _million_ dollars?!” She yells. Wynonna wipes her face off and glares at Nicole. 

“Keep it down, would you?” Wynonna huffs, looking around the practically empty bar with nervous eyes. “Yes, three million. So, finding this treasure is kind of the only thing standing between us and certain death.”

“So if this Clootie woman sent you to find the treasure, why bother hiring the private army?” Nicole asks, her elbow slipping on the table and banging painfully on the edge of the table. 

“Well, Doc let it slip that we were on the trail,” Wynonna sighs, “to show that we had three million dollars coming our way. Only problem is that Clootie would way rather have us dead and take the _entire_ treasure for herself.”

“Oh,” Nicole says, “shit.” 

“Shit indeed,” Wynonna says. 

“Why wouldn’t you just tell us that was the problem?” Nicole asks, and she hates how heavy her tongue feels from all the alcohol. 

Wynonna laughs. “Waverly already thinks I’m a fuck-up. And there’s no way she’d be helping me if she knew my ultimate plan was to sell off our ‘birthright’ on the highly illegal black market.” She looks at Nicole and tilts her head. “Besides, only reason I’m telling you this is because I’m sure that you won’t remember more than ten percent of this conversation when you sober up.” 

Nicole frowns but then she nods. “You’re probably right. I’m very drunk.” 

“Are you an honest drunk, Nicole?” Wynonna asks, draining the pitcher into her glass. Nicole shrugs, staring at the amber liquid and grimacing at the smell of cheap beer that pierces her nostrils. 

“I’m an honest person,” she says. “And honestly, Wynonna, you might have a twin.” She blinks to clear her vision, sighing in relief when the two Wynonnas she was seeing merge back into one. 

“Amazing,” Wynonna chuckles. “Okay, first question for you, Haught: what type of person just drops everything to follow some strangers on a doomed quest through the Americas? Don’t you have like, a family? A boyfriend? A life?”

Nicole snorts and rests her head on her folded arms. “Boyfriend?” 

“Yeah,” Wynonna says, her face tugging together in confusion. 

Nicole looks up at her and raises an eyebrow. “Wynonna, you…you know I’m _gay_ , right?” 

Wynonna’s eyebrows shoot up into her hairline and Nicole devolves into laughter as Wynonna fumbles through an explanation that gets mumbled into the background of Nicole’s muffled, drunk ears. 

“Chill, dude,” Nicole says through her laughter. Wynonna shuts herself up by sucking back the glass of beer in front of her. 

“I had no idea,” Wynonna says, “but you know what, it makes sense now.”

“What does?”

“Everything,” Wynonna says. “For example, I never saw you check out Dolls’ ass, and he has a tight little rear.” Nicole pretends to gag, and Wynonna laughs. 

Their phones light up on the table and Nicole has to read the text five times before it’s all pieced together. 

**Waverly  
** _Got what we needed! Rendezvous at the boat ASAP, time to get going :)_

“Okay, Haughtstuff,” Wynonna says, helping Nicole stand steady on her feet, “let’s get going. Can you walk without being a danger to yourself and others?” 

Nicole hiccoughs, nods, takes on step and then shakes her head. “I think I’m gonna be sick,” she moans, and Wynonna laughs as she drapes Nicole’s arm over her shoulder. 

“Mind over matter,” she says. “Just gotta make it to the boat, and then I’ll prop you up nicely on the toilet and you can ralph to your heart’s content.” Nicole nods, and they begin their stagger home. 

Upon their arrival, Waverly chastises Wynonna for getting Nicole so drunk. Most of the interactions pass in a blur for Nicole, who can really only focus on how unbelievably beautiful Waverly is. Which she might have said out loud, too. 

“You are _so pretty_ ,” Nicole whines as Waverly helps her into bed. She’s not sure why she’s whining about it, but it brings a cute flush to Waverly’s cheeks.

“You are drunk, Nicole Haught,” Waverly laughs, pushing her shoulder until she’s lying down on her side. 

Nicole hums. “Maybe just a bit,” she relents, “but you’re still the-the prettiest girl I have ever seen.”

Waverly rolls her eyes and holds up a garbage can. “When you puke, please do it into this.” She gently pats Nicole’s cheek and places a soft kiss on her forehead. “You’re kind of an idiot sometimes.” 

“But ‘m your idiot,” Nicole mumbles, a bashful smile on her face that she tries to hide in her pillow. 

“Is that so?” Waverly asks with a small giggle. Nicole nods insistently, reaching out and holding Waverly’s hand.

“I would do anything for you, Wave’ly,” she says as seriously as she can manage when her tongue feels like a stone in her mouth. 

Waverly blushes a deep red, leaning down and giving Nicole a firm kiss, swatting the hand away from her ass with a laugh. “Sleep it off, pretty girl,” she says. Nicole tries to keep her eyes open just a minute longer, but her eyelids are heavy and she soon succumbs to sleep.

She only pukes three times the next morning. 

-

“I am so sick of boats,” Wynonna groans, and Nicole agrees with a nod. She pulls her sweater tighter around her body against the cold night air. 

“It’s _authentic_ ,” Waverly says from where she’s sitting in between them. Nicole grumbles incoherently and shares a commiserating look with Wynonna. 

“Authenticity can kiss my ass,” Wynonna says. 

Waverly rolls her eyes and lies back on the roof of the bridge cabin. “If you’re so miserable, you can go back inside and stop harshing my vibe.” 

“‘Harshing your vibe’?” Wynonna mocks. “Dude, try to sound more like a stoner, I dare you.” The older Earp doesn’t make a move to leave however, lying back beside her sister and scooting to press their sides together. Waverly reaches up and tugs at Nicole’s sweater until she follows suit, and the three of them lay there staring up at the stars. 

“Is it possible for a hangover to last for two days?” Nicole asks, wincing at the persistent headache that throbs in her temples. 

“I’ve never been sober enough to know,” Wynonna says. Nicole goes to complain more, but Waverly slides her hand into hers and squeezes, and all the fight drains out of Nicole. 

“I think I’ve figured out what the star charts and sketches mean,” Waverly says, and Wynonna’s head lifts as her interest is piqued. Nicole turns her head to look at Waverly, stomach fluttering when she catches a whiff of Waverly’s sweet-smelling shampoo. 

“Well?” Wynonna prompts, and Waverly seems to bite back a grin. Wynonna elbows her until Waverly smacks her arm and takes a steadying breath. 

“Well, it’s a little outside of the box, but I think the coordinates and symbolism are coming together in an unexpected way,” Waverly says, “plus the journal entries that we found in the crypt are helping to build a bigger picture of what these men were up to.” She looks over at Nicole and her eyes are full of excitement, like everything she has to say is bursting to escape all at once. 

“Walk us through it,” Nicole suggests softly, and Waverly nods, their eyes locking for a moment before Waverly sit up, crossing her legs underneath her. 

“The coordinates Doc calculated and then I corroborated with the journal entries point us even further south,” Waverly says, “like, way further south. And the latest journal entries are all about the corruption of the American Revolutionaries, and how the English monarchy is responsible for said corruption. It’s all very libertarian, really, which is fascinating for a whole host of other reasons. This guy was basically just talking about how the men who were on the frontiers of exploration, the pioneers I guess, they were fed up with being ignored in the decisions made about the future. Enough of them were aware that eventually all that political noise would make its way west and interfere with their lives.” 

“So what, they were looking for a way out?” Nicole asks, sitting up and leaning her elbows on her knees, looking up at Waverly intently. 

“Well, I guess that when they found the _Iqueue_ ’s treasure, they took it as a sign,” Waverly says with a shrug, “a sign that they could start fresh somewhere under their _own_ rules, without running the risk of eventual political corruption.”

“It’s a nice idea,” Wynonna says from where she’s sat up, her legs dangling over the edge of the roof, “but they had to know there was no way that would ever happen.”

Waverly shrugs again, the corners of her mouth twitching in amusement. “I don’t think anyone starts off living their dream with ‘but it’ll never happen’.” 

“Fair enough, smarty-pants” Wynonna chuckles, bumping their shoulders together. “Continue, please.”

“They traveled south, further than anyone had properly colonized yet,” Waverly says, “and it looks like they went down the coast of Chile until they found unspoiled land.” She pauses and tilts her head. “I mean, besides the thousands of years that the native people had been living there. Wow, white people _suck_ , huh?” 

Wynonna and Nicole nod. 

“Anyways, basically I’ve been thinking that Libra is all about representing justice and equality,” Waverly continues, “and Virgo must be talking about virginity, like something unspoiled and not tainted.”

“So the coordinates are pointing us somewhere ‘untainted’ along the Chilean coast?” Nicole asks, trying not to be distracted by the way the moon highlights the sharp line of Waverly’s jaw. 

“Between Doc and my’s calculations, there are two possible locations,” Waverly says. “All we’ve got to do now is sail.” 

Wynonna claps her hands together and slides off the roof, landing unsteadily and falling on her ass. 

“Stuck the landing,” Nicole calls down to her. Wynonna gives her the finger.

“I’m going to bed,” she says. “I’ll see you nerds in the morning for training.” Waverly smiles and gives her two thumbs up. As soon as Wynonna has gone inside, Waverly is climbing onto Nicole, straddling her hips and draping her arms around her neck. 

“It’s insane how hard it is to last a whole day without touching you,” Waverly says, leaning forward and nuzzling her nose into the soft skin behind Nicole’s ear. A small whimper escapes Nicole’s lips, and she pulls Waverly closer, arms tight around her waist. Small kisses get placed on the column of her neck, and Nicole slips her fingers under the hem of Waverly’s sweater. Waverly’s skin is warm, and she jumps at the cold touch. 

“Sorry,” Nicole mumbles, but Waverly just leans up and captures her lips in a slow kiss that sends Nicole’s heart into a marathon and starts a fire low in her belly. Waverly presses closer, her hips snug against Nicole’s torso. Her tongue is full and warm in Nicole’s mouth. Fingers run through Nicole’s hair and tug lightly. Nicole growls and pulls back from the kiss, eye blown wide and dark. 

She lies Waverly back on the rooftop, still settled between her legs. Nicole presses down with her body as she reconnects their mouths. The pace of their kiss picks up, turning hot and heavy. Waverly is making the most wonderful noises, her hips canting up to find more friction against Nicole. Nicole holds herself up on one forearm by Waverly’s head, her other hand sliding up the front of Waverly’s sweater to scratch lightly at her stomach. 

Her fingers traces the moving ridges of Waverly’s muscles, and Nicole feels unbelievably turned on. “You’re ridiculously fit for such a bookworm,” Nicole breathes between kisses. Waverly grins against her lips and Nicole kisses her teeth, caught off guard. 

“And very bendy,” Waverly teases her with a quick nip at Nicole’s bottom lip. She furthers her point by wrapping her legs up over the back of Nicole’s and pulling her even further down against her own body. Nicole groans and falls into the next kiss, Waverly sucking on Nicole’s tongue and scratching at her scalp. 

Somewhere beyond the place of Nicole’s consciousness, her hand slides up and palms at Waverly’s breast, kneading gently until she finds the right movement to make Waverly moan. Her thumb presses against Waverly’s nipple through the cotton of her bra, and Nicole shivers at the way Waverly whines and her fingers tighten in Nicole’s hair. She repeats the movement until Waverly presses a hand to her shoulder and pushes her back. Nicole removes her hand immediately, sitting up and trying to calm her heaving breaths. 

“Are you okay?” She asks, searching for a sign on Waverly’s face as to whether or not something’s wrong. 

“So okay,” Waverly says, breathy with eyes black as the sky above them. Nicole gets a little lost in them for a moment. “I’m just cold.” 

Nicole nods and climbs off Waverly. “Come on, we should go to bed.” Waverly wiggles her eyebrows at the implication and Nicole laughs, giving her a quick kiss and mumbling, “perv,” before sliding off the roof. She waits until Waverly lands safely beside her before taking her hand. 

“One of these days, Nicole Haught,” Waverly says as Nicole holds the door for her, “I’m going to get you in my pants.” 

Nicole grins and falls back into step beside her. “I look forward to it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lighthearted and fun, short and sweet? Happy Thanksgiving to my American readers, sorry you had to wait a whole month longer for turkey than us! 
> 
> All the support means so much to me :) see you next time!


	12. and who are these who make the sable crew

Waverly can hear her heartbeat, her chest pounding. She leans back against the rock and looks over at where Dolls is firing precise rounds from where he’s taken cover with Wynonna. She can hear Doc and Nicole shooting to her left. A bullet flies by her head and Waverly grips her shotgun tightly. 

“Eat shit, shit-eaters!” She yells, leaning out from behind her cover and firing two rounds at the nearest mercenary. There’s one second of victory, and then a searing pain in her side and she falls back behind the rock, clutching at her side. 

Dolls looks over at her and he feels an uncharacteristic fear grip his heart. It’s hard to not like Waverly Earp, and after spending weeks traveling with the motley crew or treasure hunters…well, he doesn’t want any of them to get shot. Not even Doc and his stupid moustache. 

“Waverly!” Wynonna shouts, and Dolls holds her back when she tries to dash out and get to her sister.

“Keep your head in the game, Earp,” he says, giving her shoulder a bracing squeeze. Wynonna looks at him and takes a deep breath before nodding and firing five quick shots over the top of their cover. 

Nicole can’t see anyone else. She can hear Wynonna yelling something, but she can’t pinpoint where she is.

“You just had to fall in love with the pretty girl, Haught,” she grumbles to herself as she reloads, the empty clip sending up a cloud of sand as it falls at her feet. “Couldn’t just let her and her crazy-ass sister go on their ridiculous wild-goose chase and live to be a gay idiot another day.” She peeks over her cover and ducks quickly when a shot comes her way. “Next time, just meet a cute girl in a coffee shop. Have a meet-cute that doesn’t involve multiple near-death experiences.”

“How the hell did they find us?” Wynonna asks Dolls. 

Dolls shoots a Revenant in the chest, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. “They’ve probably been tracking us, or our cellphones.” 

Wynonna slaps a hand to her forehead. “Of course they have,” she groans. “Fuck me, I’m an idiot.” 

“Do you always talk this much when you’re in a shootout?” Dolls asks, taking more shots. Wynonna flips him off and shoots a Revenant right between the eyes.

“Problem?” She says. Dolls roll his eyes.

Doc falls to the ground as a big Revenant punches him in the gut, his hat falling to the ground. He scrambles to his feet and holds his fists out in front of him. 

“Fisticuffs it is, then,” he growls, taking wild swings at the Revenant. The large man grabs Doc’s wrist and twists his arm until he’s immobilized. 

“You’re damn lucky Ms. Stone wants you alive,” the Revenant spits in his face. Doc grimaces, his moustaches twitching. 

“I see she’s taken her maiden name again,” Doc says, desperately searching for some way to talk his way out of this situation. “I always said, never trust someone who changes their identity so quickly.” 

“Like you’re one to talk,” the Revenant says, hauling Doc to a nearby truck. “You’re the least trustworthy of them all, Hank.” Doc’s eyes widen in shock at the name.

“How do you know my name?” Doc asks, kicking his feet wildly. 

The Revenant laughs and pulls off his ski mask. “Remember me now?” 

“Joey, is it?” Doc tries. 

“Stevie, you jackass,” the Revenant says. “I was pretty new to the crew when you left and _fucked_ us all, but I remember you teaching me how to shoot straight.” 

“Well now, I have taught many men the intricacies of shooting a gun,” Doc says, “you can hardly hold that against me.” 

Stevie laughs and shoves Doc into the back of the truck and holding him down as he ties his hands and feet together. “I don’t hold shit against you,” Stevie breathes into his ear, and Doc gags at the rancid smell of it. “But Ms. Stone, she’s got a score to settle with you. And loyalty is all that men like us have.” He shoves Doc’s face into the floor and gets into the driver’s seat. A radio crackles. “I’ve got him. Eliminate the others and get back to base camp.” 

Nicole turns her head to the sound of a truck ripping away. She squints against the sun and dust, trying to make out who’s driving it. 

Something lands heavily next to her, and Nicole feels panic grip her chest at the blinking red light. She gets to her feet and runs as fast as she can, but the explosion rocks the ground and sends her flying forward, landing on her front painfully, the wind knocked out of her. 

Gasping for breath, Nicole keeps crawling, her ears ringing and everything spinning around her. She focuses on breathing, and on the ground beneath her. 

“Nicole!” Dolls is at her side and then he’s helping her to her feet, and his lips are moving but Nicole just shakes her head slowly, everything sounding muffled and far-away. 

Suddenly she’s on her hands and knees, retching until her stomach spills all it’s contents on the ground in front of her. 

Next time she can make out her surroundings, she’s in the back of a four-by-four beside Waverly Earp. The ground - no, the truck, she’s in a truck - moves underneath her and she sits up slowly, her head spinning. The Nazca Valley is flying by her, and her body protests the movement, so she lies back and looks over at Waverly. 

She looks pale, but her breathing is even and there’s a clean bandage on her side that Nicole can see from where her shirt has ridden up. Nicole reaches out and takes Waverly’s hand in her own, and she closes her eyes, letting the exhaustion take over and knock her out again. 

-

Waverly watches Nicole sleep, the cave they’ve taken refuge in cast in dim light from the lantern Dolls brought. She’s been asleep for hours on the ground, her chest rising and falling steadily. 

“Time to change that bandage, baby girl,” Wynonna says, pulling Waverly away from her staring. Waverly grimaces but goes to sit in front of her sister, lifting her shirt and letting Wynonna dress the wound. It’s shallow, a graze, but it still stings like a bitch when Wynonna dabs on antiseptic and presses a fresh compress to it. 

“Do you think it’ll scar?” Waverly asks, hissing in a breath as Wynonna tapes the compress down. 

“Don’t worry,” Wynonna says, “dudes dig scars.” 

“Do chicks?” The question flies out of Waverly’s mouth before she can censor it, and confusion crosses Wynonna’s face. Before she can question it, Dolls is sitting down beside them and holding out two packs of rations. 

Yeah. Rations. They were reduced to eating the nasty military rations Dolls had been packing since he joined them. 

“Keep your strength up,” he says. 

They crunch away on the rations in silence, and Waverly really wishes that they had anything else to eat because rations? Taste like ass. 

“We need to get Doc back,” Wynonna says as she crumples up the wrapping of her rations. 

“What, the four of us against the whole Revenant army?” Dolls laughs, and Wynonna glares at him. “Earp, you’re a tough son of a bitch, but so is Holliday. He can get himself out of this mess. We don’t have time to be heroes.”

“We can’t leave him behind!” Wynonna argues, and Waverly’s eyes flit between the two of them like a tennis rally. 

“We’re on a time crunch, Earp,” Dolls snaps, “we don’t have time to be saving Doc’s ass. We need to find that treasure before-“

“Before what?” Wynonna asks, arms crossed over her chest. 

Dolls clamps his jaw shut and Waverly watches him grind his teeth. “That’s classified.”

“Look around you, Dolls,” Wynonna says, “I think we’re a little past classified. We’re hiding out in a cave after having our ass handed to us by a group of rebel mercenaries. Doc has been taken, Waverly got shot, and Nicole…she almost got _blown up_ , Dolls! So pull your head out of your ass and talk to us like you think we’re worth your time.”

Waverly holds her breath, waiting for Dolls to explode, for him to yell and accuse Wynonna of treason, but instead he just sighs and nods, quietly relenting. 

“My superiors haven’t been impressed with the lack of results we’ve been delivering,” Dolls says. 

“Lack of results?” Waverly scoffs. 

Dolls holds up his hand to silence her before she can get going on a serious tirade. “They’re interested in actual results. Not clues or partial trails. They’ve given me one more week to find this treasure, or they’re pulling funding and probably locking us all in some contract of silence.” 

“Even for a government agency, this sounds sketchy,” Wynonna says. 

“The Black Badge office is highly classified, which means they don’t have to follow the normal rules of bureaucracy.” 

“See?” Wynonna nudges Waverly. “Sketchy.” 

“My point is, we don’t have time to go save Doc,” Dolls says. “We have one week to find the treasure, or it’s lights out.” 

“On your career, not on us,” Waverly says, “you’re just trying to cover your own ass.” 

Dolls laughs. “Come on, Waverly, you really think an agency like Black Badge is going to let anyone walk away who knows about this? They’re securing the treasure for themselves, not for you to come and take it right before they can.” 

“Damn it, Dolls!” Wynonna shouts, and Waverly jumps at the sudden loud noise. “You’ve been screwing us since day one. All you care about is your stupid job and your stupid superiors! This is Doc’s _life_ we’re talking about! And mine, and probably now Waverly and Nicole’s, so get over your stupid boy-scout loyalty, because people you know and should care about are going to die if we don’t do something!”

“What do you mean our lives are on the line?” Waverly asks quietly, and Wynonna frowns.

“What?” 

“You said our lives are on the line,” Waverly repeats. “I mean, I get that we’re being shot at, but once we find the treasure we can get out of the way of the Revenants and just go back home, right?” 

Wynonna gapes soundlessly, and Waverly can see her trying desperately to find a way to talk herself out of the hole she’s dug. She’s saved by a low groan behind them, and Waverly whips around to look at where Nicole is sitting up slowly. 

“Nicole!” She rushes to her side and helps her sit up, holding her steady and rubbing her back gently. “How are you feeling?”

“Like someone tried to blow me up,” Nicole says, her voice tight as she looks around the cave. “Where are we?”

Waverly strokes her hair back form her face, and kisses her temple before she can think about it. “We escaped the Revenants and hid out here when it started to get dark.” 

Nicole nods slowly and leans into Waverly’s touch. “Cool beans, dude.” 

“You need to stop getting hurt,” Waverly says, her bottom lip trembling. Nicole looks at her and cups her face in her hands. 

“Okay,” she says, and then they’re kissing. Waverly sighs into it, Nicole’s lips a little chapped against hers. 

“What the-“

Wynonna’s exclamation startles them back to reality, and Waverly blanches. Nicole licks her lips nervously and looks over at Wynonna, then back to Waverly. 

“Oops.” 

-

Waverly finds Wynonna sitting outside the cave’s mouth. 

“Hey,” she says quietly, bending her knees to sit beside her sister. Wynonna looks over at her and nods in greeting. Waverly exhales noisily and taps her hands on her knees. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Wynonna says, her voice cutting through the quiet night. 

Waverly looks up at the stars and shrugs. “It’s new, I guess,” she mumbles, “with Nicole being a girl and stuff.” 

“Do you think I’d care?” Wynonna asks, and Waverly shuffles closer to her, resting her head on her shoulder. Wynonna wraps an arm around her slim shoulders and holds her close against her side. 

“How mad will you be if I say ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ right now?” Waverly says, and Wynonna chuckles. 

“At least Haught-pocket is a huge step up from Champ Hardy,” Wynonna says, poking her fingers into Waverly’s side. “Not that it takes much.” Waverly laughs, soaking up her sister’s body heat and smelling the leather of her jacket. 

“We’re going to get Doc back, y’know,” Waverly says, and she feels Wynonna stiffen against her. “Hey,” she locks her arms around Wynonna’s body and holds her tightly, “trust me. Trust the team. Doc can handle himself, and we need to keep our lead over the Revenants for as long as possible.” 

Wynonna sighs and settles into the hug. “I know,” she relents, “but it doesn’t mean this still doesn’t blow.”

“It’s totally balls,” Waverly agrees. 

“You’re sure you’re okay to go with Nicole?” Wynonna asks. “I’d feel a lot better if you stuck with me or Dolls, baby girl.” 

“We’ll be fine,” Waverly says, rolling her eyes. “Nicole’s just a little bruised, but she’s not going to let anything happen to me. And I’m going to protect her right back.” 

Wynonna sighs. “Fine. But I swear to god, Waverly, if you get yourself captured or-or _shot_ again, I’m going to kick your ass.” 

They sit in silence for a while, looking up at the sky. Waverly remembers all the nights she spent alone, staring up at the stars and wondering where her sister was, what she was doing. She remembers looking up at the stars and wishing so hard for her to come back and take her with her. 

She wonders what Wynonna sees when she looks at the stars. 

“Wynonna?”

“Mhm?”

Waverly fiddles with the end of her sleeve. “What did you mean before, when you said our lives were on the line?”

“Oh.” Wynonna clears her throat and Waverly waits for her to find the right words. “Well, there’s something you need to know about me and Doc, and how we got to this point.” 

“No lies?”

Wynonna nods. “No lies, baby girl.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so not confident in my ability to write action scenes, but I hope this reads alright! Thank you all so much for your kind words and kudos, I'm consistently blown away by it all :)


	13. ghostly land storm-slain and old

Waverly navigates as Nicole drives, and they arrive in Valparaíso as night falls. Nicole drives the stolen truck quietly through dead streets, and Waverly’s spine tingles with the way the city seems to have fallen asleep for their arrival. They drive through the city and along the coast until they reach an old lighthouse. Dolls and Wynonna went inland from the cave they had sheltered in, and the radio in Waverly's hand has been unnervingly quiet.

“Is this it?” Nicole asks, and Waverly nods wordlessly. They climb out of the truck and check their supplies. Flashlights, extra batteries, rations, rope, climbing gear, weapons. Waverly tucks her notebook into the back of her jeans, and she waits for Nicole to be ready until she sets off towards the old tower. 

It takes both of them to break the door down, and their flashlights illuminate the room. There are some boxes stacked along the walls, everything coated in a layer of dust that has Nicole sneezing. 

“Keep an eye out for anything related to our looters,” Waverly reminds Nicole, “rapiers, scales, stuff like that.” 

They spread out and search the lighthouse, Waverly taking the stairs and leaving Nicole to scour the ground floor. She reaches the top of the lighthouse and takes in the view of the night harbour, ship lights like tiny fireflies on the water. Leaning on the guardrail, Waverly lets out a long sigh.

“It’s really beautiful up here.” Nicole’s voice sounds from behind her, and Waverly jumps, clapping a hand to her chest. 

“Jeez,” she breathes, and Nicole holds her hands up with an apologetic smile. 

“Sorry,” she says, “just wanted to make sure you were alright.” 

“It’s only been a few minutes,” Waverly says, and Nicole’s brow furrows. 

“It’s been near fifteen, Wave,” she says, and then she’s beside Waverly, her hand resting carefully on top of Waverly’s on the rail. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been quiet all day.” 

Waverly pauses, working her jaw back and forth. “I’m fine, I promise,” she finally says, and it’s obvious in the way Nicole pulls her hand back that she doesn’t believe a word Waverly is saying, but Waverly sticks to her guns. 

“Okay,” Nicole says. “I think I found something downstairs, if you’re done up here.” 

“Lead on,” Waverly says, and her heart clenches at the way Nicole’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes. 

“It was under a few boxes,” Nicole is saying as they descend the spiral stairs, “I tripped over the edge, it looks like some sort of seal.” Nicole leads the way over to a cleared spot off to the side of the room. Waverly crouches down next to her and shines her light over the floor. 

“Raised edges,” she mumbles to herself, “circular, engraved with crossed rapiers over the scales of balance.” A grin splits itself across her face. “It’s a door.” 

“What?” Nicole asks, and Waverly looks up at her confused face, and she gets distracted for a second, because Nicole seriously looks like a puppy. A really cute puppy. 

Waverly shakes herself out of it. “Like a manhole cover,” she explains. “Help me lift it.” 

They take hold of the metal cover and lift, grunting with effort as they manage to lift it just high enough to slide it off the hole. Nicole leans down and shines her light down the hole, squinting to see the bottom.

“It’s a pretty steep drop,” she says. Waverly grabs a flare from her backpack and lights it, dropping it down the hole. They watch it fall and Waverly counts. 

“Twenty feet, give or take five,” Waverly says and Nicole nods. “Do you think we could anchor to something in here?”

Nicole inspects the stairs, tugging hard on the steel frame. “This should do it, one at a time.” Waverly waits as Nicole secures their rope and spews off instructions. “If there’s a wall within reach, use that to slow your descent with your feet. We’ll rappel, so just use this,” Nicole holds up a cammed descending device, “so all you have to do is pull the handle at let yourself drop at a reasonable rate. If you go too fast, it’ll stop you, so just play it safe.” 

“Sounds good,” Waverly says, and Nicole nods. 

“I’ll go down first,” she says. “I’ll leave the cam with you and do a manual descent.” Waverly nods, and then Nicole is gripping the rope and starting her descent. 

“Is it a bad time to be kind of turned on?” Waverly says as she watches Nicole lower herself down the rope. 

“Never a bad time for that,” Nicole calls back. Waverly waits with baited breath until she hears Nicole’s feet touch ground and the other woman calls up. “Alright, toss down our packs and then go ahead.” Waverly follows the instructions, dropping their backpacks down the hole. She can see Nicole at the bottom, illuminated by her headlamp and shoulder light. 

“Fire in the hole,” Waverly jokes as the packs fall. They make a loud thud as they hit the ground, and then Waverly is checking her climbing harness and attaching it to the cam device. She takes a deep breath and slowly starts repelling down. It’s not even a long fall, really, but Waverly doesn’t have a lot of climbing experience.

“Easy does it,” Nicole says from below her, and Waverly feels a lightness in her heart when she realizes that if she falls, she’s one hundred percent sure Nicole will catch her. 

Her feet hit solid ground sooner than she expected, and Nicole is right there to help her detach herself and step out of the harness. 

“Not too bad,” Waverly says with a smile, clicking on her shoulder light. They each heave a pack onto their backs and start off down the dark tunnel. 

“What are the chances that this collapses on us?” Nicole says after a few minutes, and Waverly shrugs. 

“It’s made it this far,” she says, “I think we should be okay.” 

The tunnel is dark and claustrophobic, and its height forces even Waverly to duck her head a few times. Nicole is walking awkwardly bent, and she hits her head occasionally with a thud and a mumbled curse. 

“What do you think this was used for?” Nicole asks as they take a right turn. 

“Could have been a few different things,” Waverly says, “maybe an escape route or a hidden entrance. Smugglers might have used it to get their merchandise to the harbour without having to pass through customs or guards.”

“Must have been short smugglers,” Nicole grumbles as she ducks under a drop in the ceiling. Waverly laughs and follows her. 

It’s hard to tell how much time has passed when there’s no natural light to guide you. Waverly has been checking her watch in what feels like a regular fashion, but sometimes five minutes have passed, and sometimes it’s been half an hour. They stop for a snack break and to rest their backs, but then they’re off again. Waverly can tell Nicole is getting antsy, her pace picking up and her breathing growing a little laboured. As for herself, Waverly is getting cold without a warm sea breeze or the sun.

“You okay?” Waverly asks, and Nicole nods, the light on her forehead bobbing. 

“Just ready to get out of this damn tunnel,” Nicole says. 

“We should reach the end soon,” Waverly tries to reassure her, “I mean, how long can a tunnel really be, right?”

“Right,” Nicole says, and Waverly reaches out and takes her hand. She sees Nicole’s lips turn up into a smile, and it warms her up. 

“I used to hide under the porch,” Waverly says, and Nicole’s hand tightens around hers. “My dad was…he had a lot of demons, I guess. And he yelled a lot, so I hid under the porch. I had a whole little hideout there, actually, an old throw pillow and a few plastic animal toys.” 

It’s the first time she’s said anything to Nicole about her past, and it’s both terrifying and exhilarating. Her heart is pounding high in her chest, but she likes the way Nicole’s thumb rubs slowly across the back of her hand.  
  
“I had a treehouse,” Nicole says. “I built it with my parents when I was ten. It was a lot less dark and cramped than this stupid tunnel.” They both chuckle a little, and Waverly soaks up the information about Nicole like a sponge in water, desperate to hear more about the woman who’s so wholly captured her heart.

“I bet you were a great kid,” Waverly says, and Nicole snorts out a laugh, an ugly noise that Waverly feels like a spark in her chest. 

“I was a terror,” Nicole says, “I had too much energy and too much attitude. It took a lot of organized sports and lessons learned before I became the cool, mature, super awesome adult that I am now.”

“And you’re so humble, too,” Waverly jibes, bumping Nicole with their joined hands. 

“One of my best qualities,” Nicole goes along with it, and Waverly stops walking. Nicole doesn’t notice until her arm gets pulled back. “What’s up?” She asks, walking back to stand in front of Waverly. Waverly leans up, one hand at the nape of Nicole’s neck pulling her down intoa sweet kiss. Nicole’s free hand grips Waverly’s forearm, and she follows the movement of Waverly’s lips. 

The kiss breaks and they stand still for a second. Nicole’s eyes open slowly, and Waverly steps back, her fingers trailing across the soft skin of Nicole’s neck as she retracts her hand. 

“What was that for?” Nicole asks, her eyes wide and full of so much affection that it sends Waverly for a turn. 

“Um,” Waverly stammers, trying to compose herself, “just because I can.” Nicole’s smile cracks her face like a sunrise on the horizon, and Waverly has to take a steadying breath. 

“Come on, Romeo, we can make out once we get out of this hellhole,” Nicole teases her, and they start walking again. 

Somewhere after they pass a few collapsed branches of tunnel, they hit a cave in that blocks their way forward. Waverly curses and lets go of Nicole’s hand, going to inspect the pile of rubble. Nicole follows her, and they both start pulling out rocks. They work in silence except for the occasional grunt when they haul a particularly heavy stone, or when Nicole bumps her head. 

“I think we can squeeze through here,” Waverly says, “I can see light up ahead.” She shoves her pack through the small opening first, and then she’s squeezing herself through. It’s a tight fit, but she falls out the other side and cheers when she sees the light at the end of the tunnel. “Come on, Nicole!” 

“Just give me a second, Wave,” Nicole says from the other side, and she pulls a few more rocks out of the way before her pack is tumbling through the crack and she follows suit. Nicole brushes some dirt from her pants and reties a lace on her hiking boot that came undone, and then she’s following Waverly down the tunnel. 

“Holy shit.” 

Years later, when Waverly is trying to describe what she saw to a class of graduate students, she uses terms like ‘sprawling’ and ‘overgrown’ and ‘ghost town’. But at the end of that lecture, she knows that nothing she says will ever do it justice. 

The moon shines bright on green vegetation that creeps up the sides of old wooden structures, built at the base of staggering cliffs. A waterfall roars down the centre of the tallest cliff and floods the empty gathering of huts. There are remnants of stone statues that stand in squares, now covered in vines and eroded from exposure to the elements. It’s an expanse of green, a demonstration of nature’s dominance over man-made things. 

They clamber down the small cliff they’ve exited onto, and Waverly can’t even be bothered to care about the way water fills her boots and soaks the bottom of her pants. They wade through the water, debris floating around them. Nicole pushes at a floating wooden chair and watches it bob away. Light glints off of sunken metal objects. They pass a house with a tree growing up out the middle of the roof. 

“This is incredible,” Nicole says, the first to break the silence that had fallen over them. 

“I didn’t…I never imagined it would be like this,” Waverly breathes. 

“We should radio Wynonna and Dolls,” Nicole says, and Waverly nods, neither of them reaching for their radios. They listen to the sounds of the waterfall, the songs of birds drifting over the wind. 

“Just…just a few more minutes,” Waverly says, and Nicole follows her around the abandoned settlement. Waverly scribbles in her journal, taking note of each building. Stables, blacksmith, granary, a few dozen houses. A tavern, what looks like a municipal building of sorts, a warehouse. Nicole reaches into the water and pulls out a few objects: rusted blades, a horseshoe, a fancy hair clip. Waverly ooh’s and ah’s over every new thing they see, pocketing small trinkets here and there. 

They climb up onto a sturdy looking roof, their legs dangling over the edge. Waverly leans against Nicole’s side and nuzzles into the crook of her neck. 

“So what do we do now?” Nicole asks, curling her arm around Waverly. 

“I guess we just…enjoy it,” Waverly says, and Nicole smiles, kissing the top of Waverly’s head. 

“Wynonna’s gonna be bummed that there’s no mountain of gold,” Nicole says, and Waverly tenses against her. Nicole sighs and leans back a little. “Are we going to talk about what’s bothering you now?” 

Waverly pulls away from Nicole and huffs. “She’s just…I thought she was finally interested in our family, I thought she cared, y’know?” Her hands fiddle with the cuffs of her sleeves. “Turns out she’s just using me to pay off debts and make herself rich. She hasn’t changed, she’s just as selfish as always.” Waverly expects Nicole to jump in and defend Wynonna, but instead the redhead beside her just nods. “It’s just like-like, okay, she’s never been interested in this stuff, right? And all I wanted was my only family member left to care, or to even just be around, and then she does both those things, but not because she wants to be here or know me, but just because her stupid cowboy sex-friend launched a giant pile of shit at a fan and couldn’t mop the walls himself!” 

Nicole hides a chuckle behind her hand. “Sorry, I know this isn’t funny,” she says, “but that was a very specific metaphor.” 

Waverly pinches her arm. “You suck.” Nicole smiles and lifts Waverly chin with her finger. 

“Hey,” she says, “I know this is really important to you. I’m sorry. I’m with you all the way, okay?”

Waverly nods, and Nicole’s smile softens before she’s kissing Waverly softly. There’s a way that Nicole kisses, and it’s soft and careful but Waverly can feel every last ounce of affection in every touch of their lips. It’s admirable, she thinks, how willingly Nicole pours her emotions out and puts herself out there. Heart on her sleeve. 

“Thank you,” Waverly whispers as the kiss ends, and Nicole strokes Waverly’s nose with her own. It’s gentle and soothing, and everything Waverly never knew she needed in such a small gesture. 

A crackle from their radios breaks the moment. 

“ _Bacon Doughnut to Angel Pants, 911 Angel Pants! Over!_ ”

Waverly fumbles for her radio. “Copy 911, Bacon Doughnut, what’s going on? Over.”

“ _Revheads found us, sounds like they’re been following your movements too. Get somewhere safe, baby girl. Over._ ” 

“Wynonna, we found it,” Waverly says, trying to communicate as much as she can before they lose contact. “We found the settlement, I don’t know if there’s any actual gold or whatever, but we found a whole town! Over.” 

“ _Holy shit_ ,” Wynonna says over the radio, “ _Waverly, that’s- fuck! Dolls, move!_ ”

Nicole and Waverly look at each other as the radio cuts out, matching worry in their eyes. 

“Did you hear-“

“Yeah. The gunshots in the background.”

Waverly swallows and puts away her radio. Nicole grabs her gun and checks that she’s got a full clip, holstering it when she’s happy. Waverly loads her shotgun. 

“We should hide,” Waverly says, and Nicole nods. They slide off the roof and land on their feet with a splash. 

“The blacksmith building,” Nicole says, “it backs onto the cliff, so they can’t flank us. There’s the forge to take cover behind.” They wade there quickly, the water splashing up around their waists. Nicole tosses their packs up into the loft above their heads. Waverly checks that her journal is tucked safely into the inside pocket of her jacket, and they take cover behind the forge. 

“You ready?” Waverly asks. Nicole answers by leaving a firm kiss on Waverly’s lips. 

They’re hiding for fifteen minutes before they hear the first explosion. The ground quivers and the water ripples, and Waverly’s grip tightens on the action of her shotgun. The second explosion sounds closer, and a piece of rusted metal falls off a nearby shelf, making a splash in the water. A third and fourth explosion sound, and Waverly looks at Nicole. 

“So they’s got a lot of explosives, huh?” Nicole says, trying to lighten the tension. 

“Nicole,” Waverly says, but the woman beside her just shakes her head. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” she says, and Waverly would almost believe her if it wasn’t for the nervous way Nicole’s fingers tap along her gun, “we’ve got this.” 

A hundred feet from them, the rock wall explodes outwards, a cloud of dust and rock spraying out and settling in the air. They peek around their cover as the dust settles, and Waverly feels her heart pounding in her ears. 

A high-heel steps through the hole in the cliff, followed by a leg in an expensive skirt, and then the woman comes into view. Blonde hair frames a disdainful face, her fancy business-formal outfit in terrible juxtaposition with the wild world around her. She stands daintily on a rock above the water and surveys the landscape in front of her. A couple dozen men follow her, guns drawn. 

“Miss Earp and Miss Haught,” the woman’s voice carries, high and snooty like every girl who made fun of Waverly in middle-school, “you have thirty seconds to make a decision. Either you surrender and come out with your hands up, and we let you live, or…” she giggles, and it’s not cute or funny, but instead it sends fear right through Waverly’s spine, “you die. Your time starts now.” 

Waverly looks at Nicole and Nicole looks at Waverly. 

“I officially hate this week,” Nicole says, and Waverly wishes she could laugh through her fear. 

“For what it’s worth,” Waverly says, “I’m really sorry we got you tangled up in this.” 

Nicole’s brow furrows and she shakes her head. “Waverly Earp, these have been the best weeks of my life.” 

They drop their guns in the water and step out from behind the forge with their hands up. A smirk works its way onto the woman’s lips. 

“Smart move,” she says, “I guess Bobo was right when he said you were the… _intelligent_ sister.” She waves her hands and four men come forward, handcuffing Waverly and Nicole. “Now, I hope you’re both ready to cooperate. I do hate it when I have to dirty my shoes.” 

Waverly glares up at her as the men drag her past the woman, tossing her and Nicole into the back of a transport truck. The door slams shut and they’re cast in darkness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know people were looking forward to a sisterly chat, but don't you worry. It'll come. Oh, my friends, how the drama is only really just beginning....thank you to all my commenters and kudos-depositors, and all you other lovely beings who ghost on through :)


	14. in bloody and unholy hand

Waverly strains her hands against the cold metal of the handcuffs, grimacing when the rough bark of the tree digs into her back. 

“I’m going to kill Wynonna,” she mutters. She looks across the clearing at where Nicole is slumped over, hands locked around a tree and blood dripping from the reopened gash above her eyebrow. Waverly pulls at her bonds again and shouts in frustration. 

Nicole raises her head and looks at her with the eye that doesn’t have blood dripping into it. “You’re making it really hard to sleep,” she says, and Waverly frowns. 

“You have a head wound,” Waverly says, “you shouldn’t be sleeping.” 

“Oh, is that why my head is bleeding so profusely?” Nicole sasses, and Waverly’s frown deepens. 

“Yeah, the attitude is really going to help,” Waverly snaps. 

There’s a pregnant pause. 

“I’m sorry,” Nicole says.

“Me too,” Waverly says. 

“This really blows, eh?’ Nicole says with a humourless chuckle. She groans as she tries to straighten up, wiping the blood from her face on her upper arm. 

Waverly’s heart squeezes. “Are you okay?” She asks, and Nicole offers her a smile, splitting her bottom lip and wincing. 

“Peachy keen, baby,” Nicole says through her teeth, “they just knocked me around a bit.”

“Why? What do they want?” Waverly tries to wriggle her wrists free again. 

“A lot of things,” Nicole shrugs, “treasure, Wynonna, information.” At Waverly’s silence, she continues. “Don’t worry though, I didn’t tell them anything.”

“You think that matters now?” Waverly says, and Nicole’s eyebrows pull together, confused. Waverly laughs and shakes her head, staring up at the sky to try and curb the tears she can feel building up. “They can have the stupid treasure, they can take all the credit, I don’t _care_. I just…I just want to go home.” 

“Waverly, come on,” Nicole tries, but Waverly cuts her off.

“No! I was- I was doing _well_ , y’know?” She sniffs back tears. “I was almost done my Masters, and I’m supposed to be applying for my PhD soon. I had friends, I had a life, a boyfriend, a summer job lined up…and then Wynonna comes along and drags me into this doomed adventure and now I’m going to be murdered by a bunch of mercenaries somewhere in the Chilean wilderness!” Waverly tries to wipe her tears on her shoulder, but she can taste salt on her lips. 

“Hey,” Nicole says, her voice soft. Waverly looks at her and feels the swell of anger in her chest ebb just the slightest. “Look, am I totally psyched about all this nonsense? Hell no.” Waverly sniffles a tiny laugh at the way Nicole rolls her eyes exaggeratedly, blinking awkwardly with her eye that’s still irritated from the blood. “But there is no way in hell that I am letting us die out here. And if they’re asking about Wynonna, that means they don’t have her yet. Your sister might be one of the craziest people I’ve met, and is this partially her fault? Yes, but there’s no way she would let anything happen to you, Waverly. Wynonna loves you. We’ve just got to hold out as long as we can.” 

Before Waverly can answer, two large men walk into the small clearing. They unlock Waverly’s handcuffs and grab her by the arms, dragging her out of the clearing while she kicks her legs to try and stop them. 

“Hey!” Nicole yells. “Let her go!” Waverly looks back and sees Nicole trying to struggle to her feet. “Take your hands off her, assholes!” 

“Shut up,” on of the men tosses back over their shoulder, their grip tightening on Waverly’s arms. 

“If you hurt her, I’ll kill you!” Nicole threatens them, and Waverly tries valiantly to escape their grip. “I swear to god, I’ll kill you!” 

As she’s dragged through the trees, Waverly catches one last glimpse of Nicole, the woman pulling uselessly at her bonds. She tries to communicate that she’ll be okay, but then Nicole is out of sight. 

“Where are you taking me?” Waverly asks. The men don’t answer her. She tries to map their location - lots of vegetation, a dozen or so tents set up. Covered trucks, boxes of weaponry. She counts at least twenty men as she’s dragged through the camp. 

They toss Waverly inside a large tent and she stumbles, putting her hands out in front of her to stop her fall. Her sore wrists protest the impact, and she rubs them as she regains her balance, looking around the tent. 

_It’s nice_ , is Waverly’s first thought. High ceiling, table with food at one end, a few chairs set up. There’s a cot in one corner. Her stomach growls on cue, as if to remind her that she hasn’t eaten since the tunnel, and Waverly eyes the food. She knows better than to take any, but the fresh fruits and breads look really, really good. 

“Waverly Earp,” a rough voice says from behind her, and Waverly whirls around to face whoever it belongs to. 

“You,” she says, and Bobo del Ray grins, wolfish and entirely unsettling. 

“Me,” he says, and Waverly backs up until her back hits the table, knocking a few mangoes off the table. One rolls until Bobo stops it with his foot. “You’re a hard girl to pin down.” He crushes the mango with his boot. 

Waverly wishes she was Wynonna in this moment, because her sister always has a snappy one-liner and she wouldn’t be frozen in fear like Waverly is. 

“Are you hungry?” Bobo asks, sweeping his hand at the table. Waverly shakes her head, and Bobo frowns. “That’s a waste.” He walks by her and sits down in one of the chairs, kicking another one out and nodding at it. “Sit.”

Waverly swallows nervously and sits, perched on the edge of the seat, every muscle in her body tense and ready to flee. 

“What do you want?” She asks. 

Bobo grabs an apple and tosses it, catching it with one hand. “I just want to talk,” he says, taking a bite from the apple. Waverly grimaces as juice drips into his beard, and he grins. “I’m interested in your family, Waverly. I always have been, but now…well, no other Earp got this far, not even your daddy.” 

“You say you knew him,” Waverly says, “but I don’t remember you.” 

“You were very young when he died,” Bobo says. “I don’t blame you for wanting to forget, either, the way you were treated.” Waverly stays silent, her jaw clenched shut. “You father and I were business partners, in a sense. We struck a deal; he finds the treasure, I provide the manpower, and we both walk away. Millionaires.” He pours two glasses of water, offering one to Waverly. She takes it but doesn’t drink, holding it in her hands tightly. 

“So what happened?” Waverly asks when Bobo doesn’t continue. It seems to be exactly what he wanted, and he lowers his glass. 

“He died before he could fulfill his end of the bargain,” Bobo says. “Some of my brethren thought he was cheating us, and they went to gather some collateral. You remember your oldest sister, don’t you?”

“Willa,” Waverly whispers, the name rough like sandpaper on her tongue. 

“The true Earp heir,” Bobo says, “and Ward’s favourite daughter. It seemed like a good plan, take the daughter and old Ward would do whatever we say. Guess nobody factored in the Wynonna of it all.” 

Waverly winces, remembering the way she screamed when her father fell to the ground. She remembers seeing the smoking gun in Wynonna’s hands. 

“With Ward dead, the entire deal fell through,” Bobo says, “of course, they killed your sister out of anger, maybe to punish Wynonna, I don’t know. I’m not like them, Waverly. I don’t want anyone else to die for this treasure. But I do want the treasure. And you’re going to help me find it.” 

Waverly scoffs, trying to summon any defiance she has left. “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to help you,” she spits. 

Bobo lunges forward, biting the air in front of her face. Waverly reels back, almost falling off the chair. 

“It’s not nice to call people crazy,” he says, clicking his tongue. Waverly can feel the fear in her chest, like a weight that freezes her in place. She wants to scream, but her throat has closed up. Bobo leans back in his chair again and narrows his eyes. “Let’s try this again. You,” he points at her, “are going to help me,” he points at himself, “find the treasure.” He waits, but Waverly doesn’t nod. Bobo sighs and hangs his head. “I was really hoping it wouldn’t have to come to this, Waverly. Just know that you could have prevented all of this.” He looks to the tent entrance and shouts, “Bring him in!”

Waverly watches with wide eyes as Doc is dragged into the tent, bruised and limp. He looks at her through swollen and darkened eyelids, his moustache twitching. 

“Howdy, darlin’,” he croaks, and Waverly feels a tear run down her cheek. The armed men tie Doc to a chair and then leave the tent. Bobo lifts Doc’s chin and smiles, their noses inches away. 

“Hello, Hank,” Bobo says with a sneer, and Doc spits in his face, saliva and blood dripping off Bobo’s cheekbone. He wipes it away and growls, winding his arm back and driving his fist against Doc’s jaw. Doc’s head turns limply with the hit, and Waverly cries out. 

“Stop it!” She screams, and Bobo looks at her, his eyes feral. 

“Are you going to help me now, Waverly?” Bobo asks, and Waverly looks at Doc. 

“Don’t you dare strike a deal with him, Waverly,” Doc says. “Don’t worry about me, darlin’, I’ll be fine.” Bobo lands another hit to Doc’s head, and Waverly chokes out a sob. 

Bobo grabs Doc by the hair and lifts his head. “What’ll it be, Waverly?” He shakes Doc’s head a little and grins. “I could do this all day if that’s what it takes to make you talk.” 

“Please, please don’t hurt him,” Waverly sobs. 

“So you’ll help?” Bobo says. 

Waverly gapes, and she must pause for too long, because Bobo lets out a frustrated roar and drops Doc’s head, landing hit after hit to his body and face. Waverly sobs, and tries to get him to stop, begging for him to stop, but Bobo doesn’t relent until Doc is unconscious, his head hanging limp, his chin touching his chest. 

“I didn’t want to do that,” Bobo says, and Waverly tries to get her sobs under control. “You could have stopped this, Waverly.” 

“Please,” she cries, “please, I don’t know what you want from me, we found it already. There’s no treasure left, it all went into the settlement.” 

Bobo shakes his head. “Now _that_ is exactly what I didn’t want to hear,” he says with a heavy sigh. 

“And it’s not yours to take,” Waverly says, and she can feel her anger starting to overcome her fear. “That treasure is ours to do what we want with, you don’t have any claim to it.”

“And you think you do?” Bobo walks towards her and leans down, his face close enough that she can feel his breath on her face. “Oh Waverly, you’re no thief. Hell, you’re not even an Earp.” 

“What?” Waverly whispers, and she can’t quite make her brain catch up to what she’s been told. 

Bobo strokes the back of his hand down her face, and she pulls back. “This birthright you’ve spent your whole life believing in? Doesn’t belong to you.” 

Waverly shakes her head. “You’re wrong.” Bobo walks away from her, heading to the tent entrance. “You’re lying!” Bobo doesn’t spare her a second glance, just leaves the tent and disappears into the bright sunlight. Waverly stares after him as the tent flap flutters shut, and then she rushes to Doc’s side. She unties the ropes and struggles to carry him to the cot. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, smoothing his greasy hair back from his forehead. “Please be okay, please be okay.” 

_You’re not even an Earp_. Bobo’s words echo in her head, and Waverly squeezes her eyes shut against them, willing away her tears. She doesn’t know what to make of them, not right now. It’s too much to handle, with Wynonna and Dolls still somewhere out there, with Doc lying unconscious in front of her, and with Nicole alone. 

“Nicole,” Waverly whispers, and she chokes on another sob, sending up a prayer to anyone who is listening that Bobo leaves Nicole alone. “This is all my fault,” she says quietly to herself, “all my fault.” 

The tent flap pushes back, and someone is tossed inside. Waverly’s heart stops beating until the figure moves and the ten flap closes, the backlight gone so Waverly can see copper hair on a tall body. Waverly rushes over and helps Nicole to her feet. 

“Are you alright?” She asks, and Nicole nods, rubbing at the red marks on her wrists from handcuffs that were put on too tight. 

“Definitely wouldn’t hire them to carry anything fragile or precious,” Nicole says, and the dry humour sparks another sob to burst from Waverly’s chest. Nicole’s face morphs into concern, and she pulls Waverly into her arms. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” she soothes, “you’re okay.” She leans back and looks Waverly over. “You’re okay, right? Did they hurt you?” 

Waverly shakes her head. “I’m fine, they didn’t…they didn’t hurt me at all. But Doc, he’s…” She trails off and steps aside to show Nicole where Doc is lying motionless on the bed. Nicole curses, following Waverly over to the bed. 

“What happened?” She asks, her eyes scanning up and down Doc’s body. 

Waverly wraps her arms around herself. “Bobo hurt him, because I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t help him find the treasure.” 

“What?” Nicole turns, frowning at Waverly. “Waverly, who cares about the treasure now? You-you let this happen to Doc for-for some _gold_?” 

It stings more than Waverly wants to admit, hearing Nicole call her out like that. It hurts like a physical blow, and Waverly tries not to let it show. 

“No, I didn’t,” she struggles to find the right words, “I just…I couldn’t help him. He killed my family, Nicole, I couldn’t help him.” 

“What are you talking about?” Nicole asks, and Waverly bites the inside of her lip. “Waverly, if you want me to trust you, you have to tell me what’s going on, okay? Because right now…I don’t even know who you are.” 

Waverly sighs and pulls up a chair, sitting down heavily. She waits until Nicole sits across from her, her fingers fiddling with the bottom of her shirt. “I was really young when my dad died,” she says, “so I don’t really remember it all. I remember a lot of screaming, gunshots, and fire. I remember Wynonna telling me to hide, and she tried to keep me calm by singing to me. My dad, he was trying to bargain with the men who were attacking our house, I think, because there was a lot of talking before the guns started. They…they took our oldest sister, Willa. I remember hearing her scream and being scared, because Willa was never scared of anything.”

“You have another sister?” Nicole asks when Waverly pauses to catch her breath. 

“Had,” Waverly corrects, and Nicole’s face falls in understanding, “we had another sister. They dragged her into the hills. They got Daddy too, and Wynonna…she was only twelve, y’know? And all of Daddy’s energy had been put into training Willa, so Wynonna didn’t really know how to shoot a gun, but she grabbed Daddy’s gun from where he dropped it and-and she fired.” Waverly hears the crack of the gunshot echo in her mind. “But, um, she shot Daddy by accident. In the back.” 

“Oh god,” Nicole whispers. She reaches forward as if to touch Waverly’s knee, but pulls her hand back at the last second. “So…so who’s this Bobo guy?”

“He was a friend of my dad’s, or at least a business associate,” Waverly explains, “I guess he’s working with that woman now, the blonde one. He wants the treasure, but he doesn’t believe me when I say that it’s not there. And I just…I can’t give up on Wynonna.” 

Nicole sighs but nods, and Waverly feels just a bit of weight lift off her chest when she realizes Nicole understands to some degree. 

“I’m not saying what you did was right,” Nicole says, “because _god_ , Waverly, look at him,” and Waverly does, and she feels guilt settle like a stone in her stomach, “but I understand.” 

“Thank you,” Waverly whispers, and Nicole nods. They both stare at Doc in an uncomfortable silence, the two feet between them now feeling like a whole ocean. “Are we- I mean, are you-“ Waverly’s voice catches in a sob and she holds herself tightly, like she can hold everything in and together just by sheer pressure. Her eyes squeeze shut against the next wave of tears. 

“Hey,” Nicole says, impossibly soft, and Waverly feels arms come around her. She takes a shaky breath and buries her face in the crook of Nicole’s shoulder. Nicole’s hands rub soothingly up and down her back, and Waverly worms her own arms around Nicole, gripping the fabric of her shirt as she cries into soft skin. 

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, and she feels Nicole place a soft kiss to the side of her head. 

“Just breathe,” Nicole says, “it’s going to be alright.” 

Waverly nods and takes slow breaths. Nicole keeps mumbling soothing words into her ear and Waverly lets herself be lost in the soft timbre of Nicole’s words.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a wait but here's my holiday season update! Might get another one out sometime before NYE but I don't want to lead you on :) every comment and kudos makes me so happy. I hope everyone has been having a good holiday season, whatever it is that you're celebrating :)

**Author's Note:**

> Feed your authors and leave a thought, there's plenty written to share with you later on down the road! Update schedule should be approximately once a week if all goes to plan. Thank you to everyone who reads this, you're all stars.


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